Celestial Congo
by PhoenixDiamond
Summary: Dr. Yugi Muto has planned his expedition to African for three years after graduating from Harvard University in order to promote Global Health. His intentions were good and so was his heart. Unfortunately, when a terrible storm causes his plane to crash in the middle of African, Yugi is left stranded on a tribal ranch and lost some of his memories. Mobiumshipping.
1. Storm

**Title: **Celestial Congo

**Disclaimer: **I am writing this story for fun and not profit. The characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. Therefore I own nada and make nada.

**Warnings: **AU Africa (Not Egypt) Sexual relations between males. Violence. Profanity. Sickness. OOCness.

**Pairings: **Mobiumshipping. (AtemxYamixYugi) Side pairings will vary.

**Rating:** M

**Author's Rant: **This will be a speedy to medium paced storyline with mild drama. I guesstimate this to be between 15-20 chapters long. I don't expect the chapters of this tale to be as overly lengthy as Fragile, but they will be moderate to a little over average length.

**Summary:** Dr. Yugi Muto has planned his expedition to African for three years after graduating from Harvard University in order to promote Global Health. His intentions were good and so was his heart. Unfortunately, when a terrible storm caused his plane to crash in the middle of African, Yugi was left stranded near a tribal ranch. When he awoke, all Yugi could remember was his name and tidbits of his previous life. Perhaps the Fulani tribe's chief's son and the tribe's pride hunter can help create newer memories.

_~Side note: Corrects made~_

* * *

**Storm**

* * *

The airport in Domino was like any other airport Yugi's had ever been in, with the bustling tourists, foreign visitors and holiday travelers coming in for vacation. He was thankful to be going in the other direction and with a lighter load than most. He'd have to thank Seto for insisting he leave an hour early because the runaround through the check-in station and the security scan most assuredly would've made Yugi late for his departure.

Yugi hunched his carry-on tote on his shoulder at the boarding gate, and handed off his ticket before shuffling forward with the crowd. Giddiness began to gravitate up his spine like ants feet and a smile tugged at his lips the further in he walked along the connected tunnel. This was the moment he'd been waiting for. Graduating Harvard took patience and loyalty to his studies, but actually getting accepted into Domino City's Global Health Promotion Organization was harder. He tried for a full year to get accepted in and another two years just to learn the practice and regulations of foreign medicines. One of his best friend, Vivian Wong, had earned her degree a year prior and sent picture after picture after picture of the beautiful South American rainforests where she choice to put her abilities to good use.

That was her place of choice.

Yugi's was Africa. The countless slideshows of the Sahara Desert, videos of the Congo rainforests and the atmosphere of the mother land's people enchanted Yugi's mind, heart and spirit. He studied the language of the people, practiced their ways of living and learned to interpret each of their dances with awkward attempts of his own. He'd been the vice-president of the Global Promotional African Safari Health and Administrations Club in order to gain the extra knowledge that wasn't taught in classes. His mother's stories of how his grandfather used to explore the native lands and find pathways to secret portions of the jungles untouched by humans, used to fascinate Yugi as a child. The stories captivated so much, he knew that he would one day have to experience the sun's dry kiss for himself and to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and help the tribal people of their health problems.

Yugi wedged himself into his coach seat, grateful that he had a window. It gave him the opportunity of seeing the overhead of African and its wondrous offerings with a virgin eye. In his tote, now weightless after having to discard his lotion bottles and drinks, he carried a detailed map of the Western African region, a list tribes on his wish list, dozens of Ebony and Essence magazines with articles on African lifestyles and assorted snacks he was grateful to nibble on.

A light drizzle of rain started to fall, but the depressing weather wouldn't alter Yugi's mood.

_Ding Dong!_

Yugi paused where he'd been about to pull out his MP3 and his cell and listened to the announcements.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the _Fasten Seat Belt_ sign. If you haven't already done so, please stow your _carry-on luggage_ underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. And also make sure your _seat back_ and _folding trays_ are in their full upright position._

_If you are seated next to an _emergency exit_, please read carefully the special instructions card located by your seat. If you do not wish to perform the functions described in the event of an emergency, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you._

_At this time, we request that all _mobile phones_, pagers, radios and remote controlled toys be turned off for the full duration of the flight, as these items might interfere with the navigational and communication equipment on this aircraft. We request that all other electronic devices be turned off until we fly above 10,000 feet. We will notify you when it is safe to use such devices._

_We remind you that this is a _non-smoking flight_. Smoking is prohibited on the entire aircraft, including the lavatories. Tampering with, disabling or destroying the lavatory smoke detectors is prohibited by law._

_If you have any questions about our flight today, please don't hesitate to ask one of our flight attendants. Thank you."_

Guess calling Seto was out of the question then. Yugi shrugged. He'd settle for reading one of the magazines he purchased from the library on the Nile. He was scheduled to meet with a group of selected international doctors at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport and from there, ride by jeep to the capital of Kenya, Nairobi, in order to be briefed on the policies and laws and code of ethics expected to be followed by all physicians. There he'd reside in one of the hotels for a week and by morning, be sent off to randomly stationed villages for a six month training probationary period. If successful, Yugi would be given his own respectful village and for the next three years keep them under his care.

Yugi wanted a small and secluded tribe near the Nile or close to the Safari; not that he had anything against the larger Western and Easter Tribes. It was more towards the fact that the smaller tribes were usually overlooked for the larger nomad tribes simply because the demand was dominate. The Basaa tribes in the Cameroon country could definitely use the medical attention from what Yugi had read about the AIDS spread in the last couple of years. But knowing the Global Board and because Yugi's skills were well honed, he'd probably be stationed in South Ghana and the Ivory Coast with the Akan tribe of West Africa—

_Ding Dong!_

"_Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to direct your _attention_ to the television monitors. We will be showing our safety demonstration and would like the next few minutes of your complete attention."_

Video monitors flickered on with an advertised display of men and women flight attendants demonstrating the proper procedures to use in case of an emergency.

"_Now we request your full _attention_ as the flight attendants demonstrate the safety features of this aircraft."_

The magazine in his hand was forgotten for the moment as Yugi sat up in his seat to carefully concentrate on the instructions being explained. He didn't trust the television sets simply because he preferred a visibly hands on way of learning.

"_When the seat belt sign illuminates, you must _fasten your seat belt_. Insert the metal fittings one into the other, and tighten by pulling on the loose end of the strap. To release your seat belt, lift the upper portion of the buckle. We suggest that you keep your seat belt fastened throughout the flight, as we may experience turbulence._

_There are several _emergency exits_ on this aircraft, forward, over each wing and towards the back. Please take a few moments now to locate your nearest exit. In some cases, your nearest exit may be behind you. If we need to evacuate the aircraft, floor-level lighting will guide you towards the exit. Doors can be opened by moving the handle in the direction of the arrow. Each door is equipped with an inflatable slide which may also be detached and used as a life raft._

_Oxygen and the air pressure are always being monitored. In the event of a decompression, an _oxygen mask_ will automatically appear in front of you. To start the flow of oxygen, pull the mask towards you. Place it firmly over your nose and mouth, secure the elastic band behind your head, and breathe normally. Although the bag does not inflate, oxygen is flowing to the mask. If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your mask on first, and then assist the other person. Keep your mask on until a uniformed crew member advises you to remove it._

_In the event of an emergency, please assume the _bracing position._ (Lean forward with your hands on top of your head and your elbows against your thighs. Ensure your feet are flat on the floor.)_

And from there Yugi drowned out the rest of the teachings to stare out the window. The plane was moving along the traffic stream, merging in at a leisure speed. He leaned back in his chair, fingers laced in his lap and carefully thought over what he was leaving behind.

Yugi could remember during his twenty six years of life, always being content. Everything was simple. Everything was basic and he only asked for what he needed. His parents had been wonderful up to the day they passed and so had his grandfather until the day he couldn't live on. The doctors predicted a good eight months before Solomon Muto would succumb to the symptoms of anal cancer, but good ole Solomon proved he could beat the odds. He pushed on for another four years until he'd threw in the white flag. It'd be a struggling road for Yugi to move on without the familiar love of his family. But, he did and it made him a stronger man. Through support of his friends, Seto, Joey and Vivian, Yugi managed to pull through the depression and succeeded in becoming what he is today.

"_Flight attendants, prepare for _take-off_ please. Cabin crew, please take your seats for _take-off."

Yugi's heart leapt in his throat and sunk in the same instant. This was it. Wiping sweaty palms on his pant legs, Yugi closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer as the rumble and hum of the plane began to vibrate beneath his thighs. Domino International Airport gradually swished passed like a wash color painting. There was a bounce, a buckle and soon an airless ascent into the sky.

Yugi kept his eyes closed, fingers grasping their opposite in a death grip because now he was finally taking that first step into his new life. His journey would begin anew in a whole different place, in a whole new world. The plane's climb up to the upper atmosphere was a bumpy experience and a humorous one. Several times Yugi's fingers clutched the arm rests as if the very support would give him a steady protection.

Yugi remembered Vivian saying something about singing until the plane leveled out because she'd been afraid of the plane crash landing. Yugi wouldn't dare give these people an excuse to throw him off with his singing. Seto said he could disappoint a crowd of crows.

_Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the _Fasten Seat Belt sign_, and you may now move around the cabin. However we always recommend to keep your seat belt fastened while you're seated. You may now turn on your _electronic devices_ such as calculators, CD players and laptop computers._

_In a few moments, the flight attendants will be passing around the cabin to offer you hot or cold _drinks,_ as well as breakfast/dinner/supper/a light meal/a snack. Alcoholic drinks are also available at a nominal charge/with our compliments. (On long flights with inflight entertainment: Also, we will be showing you our _video presentation.)_ Now, sit back, relax, and _enjoy the flight_. Thank you."_

"Finally," Yugi sighed, pulling out his cell phone from his khaki cargo slacks. He wiped his still moist palms on his black t-shirt and pressed the phone to his ear, waiting for the pick-up click.

The phone answered after the third ring to a raspy, cool voice. _"I guess you made it in time."_

No sort of hello or how are you doing? Yugi shook his head. Just like Seto. "Yeah, you were right as usual. The lines were stretched as far as the snack stands."

"_Aren't I always?" _Some paper shifted in the background and Seto mumbled some numbers and comments of ignorance to someone in the background—probably Roland—before speaking on the line again. "_How long are you supposed to live with those illiterate heathens?"_

Yugi frowned slightly as he stared out the window, his eyes slightly serious and his lips thinning. "They're not illiterate heathens, Kaiba. They're a very richly cultured people who go about a different way of living than we do. Just because they don't count on Roland to wipe their asses like you, doesn't make them any less sophisticated."

"_If you want to believe those disease infested savages are civil, you go right ahead. I know otherwise."_

"How? Have you ever lived around them? Spoke their language? Helped a child to clean water?"

"_No, but the national geographic works wonders on acknowledging us morons on how privileged we are. I despise you, you know. I have another month of freedom and you decide now of all times to venture off to la la land to teach a bunch of hut dwelling_, savages,_" _the word was hissed through clenched teeth so viciously, Yugi was surprised venom wasn't spilling through the receiver_, "how to read and write vowels and how to filter water!" _

Yugi flinched away from the phone after Seto's voice hiked a few octaves. He tested the volume a couple of times and pressed it back to his ear. "You're still sour about picking Joey as your best man, aren't you?"

"_Oh, you're so observant,"_ Seto sarcastically growled. "_My wedding is in three weeks, genius. Did you ever think to postpone your worthless trip to be here for me? That moronic, clumsy oaf doesn't know the first thing about interior decoration or finding the proper fitted tuxedoes. Do you know what he said when I asked if he ordered the floral arrangements from Linguini's? Ask me."_

Yugi chuckled. "I'm almost afraid too."

"_He said what side went best with flora, pepperoni or sausage?" _

"No, he didn't?"

"_You really need to ask?"_

Yugi doubled over, muffling a laugh behind his hand. If there was one thing he'd definitely miss, it was the hilarious arguments between Seto and Joey. They went back and forth worse then a stalemate ping pong match. Their friendship was odd and the way they communicated was even odder. Seto never, ever held his tongue when it came to explaining exactly how he felt. Yugi was always more subtle when it came to calmly hurting people's feelings. The problem was, Joey didn't have a filter of any kind. Hence why he and Seto went at it like cats and dogs at every waking moment.

"_I don't find this the least bit funny!"_ Seto really didn't. He was dead serious. "_You'd rather spend your time with those dried up shit-knots than support your best friend. I've said it once and I'll say it again: Friendship is for chumps. It's an overrated fad for the lonely and destitute."_

"If that were true, you would've never answered me when I called."

"_I answered to make sure you were mentally aware of what you were getting yourself into. There's _no_ indoor plumbing, Yugi Muto. You know this, correct? _

Yugi kept laughing. "I'm aware, Kaiba."

"_What do you plan to do when it comes time to use the restroom? Wipe your ass with poison ivy? By the way, don't use that as an excuse as to why you're scratching your balls when you come back. I'll have you sanitized with 200 degree acid before you walk through the door."_

Yugi wiped at his eyes, and cleared his throat. "Kaiba really, you shouldn't be so negative about the Africans. I find their way of life fascinating. Imagine how they're able to coexist around one another without the modern advantages like us? We could learn a great deal from them about preserving energy and finding ways to restore the environment."

_"How? By becoming one with the earth? No thanks. I'll pass on praying to every rock, twig and buffalo by flipping a light switch. How's that for preserving energy?"_

"Kaiba," Yugi groaned. "You're being unfair."

"_No, I'm being redundant because I keep repeating my argument about this idea. You can be a barbarian with that blond hound here in the states, Muto. Why must you travel thousands of miles to be content in sand, the blistering sun, and live in nothing but a scorching box made of clay? Help me understand, because I have a villa in Florida that matches that exact description with the luxuries of a martini, snow crabs and a hula man."_

"Must you be a diva?" Yugi choked back another laugh when Seto started to sputter and gasp like he'd just surfaced from underwater. Yugi couldn't help teasing him. "I'm sorry, that was mean. Do you vent like this to Jordan?"

Silence hovered over the phone for the few seconds Yugi knew Seto was using to collect his composure whenever he heard the name of his fiancée. Trust, if Yugi ever thought it was possible to shut Seto down like a machine from a name, Yugi would never believe it. All it took was hearing Jordan Alexander William's name and Seto was tight lipped. Yugi couldn't blame him. The guy was everything a man or woman could ask for in a lover: tall, regal and muscularly lean and trim as a swimmer and had smooth, chocolate skin that looked as if it'd melt after one lick. His hair was as brown as roasted cinnamon and his bright smile could rival a Colgate model in a dark room. Jordan worked as an accountant for Heartland's Firm and it'd been during a meeting with Kaiba's counsel when Jordan attempted to sweep the CEO off his feet.

His voice coiled and bounced in Seto's stomach like a tennis ball and string through his ribcage with his needled flirtations. It took some effort but Jordan had managed to weasel a date out of Seto and they instantly clicked. Oh, and what a charmer he was. When Seto brought him to lunch one day to meet Yugi and Joey, Jordan had even managed to get Joey laughing within ten minutes of meeting him. It took little persuasion for Yugi to accept him because how often was it that Seto brought anyone to meet his friends?

Jordan was a wonderful companion and an even greater big brother for Mokuba. Yugi wholeheartedly approved and seven months later, Seto and Jordan were engaged. Yugi had been chosen right away as Seto's best man, but, well, things just happen.

"_I'd prefer discussing my frustrations with you. Jordan has other priorities to handle first,_" Seto finally, _finally_ said after loosening his knotted tongue. _"Besides, who else deserves to be tongue lashed but you; the very one who abandons me after I compensated my years of association with you, that rude Asian sling-shot from outer space and that culturally damaged blond from Brooklyn?"_

Yugi sighed. "You have to be the most prejudice, racist, egotistic jerk on the face of the planet."

"_I'll have you know my lover is black and not once have I had any complaints from him about being racist or prejudice. So what does that tell you?"_

"That you're choosey about who you discriminate."

A rusty chuckle. _"Touché." _

A sudden clapping boom interrupted Yugi's conversation. He frowned. _Thunder? When had it started to_ _storm?_ Thunder erupted again outside a little louder and closer. Yugi grimaced as a flash of bright blue engulfed the sky and crackled sharply. Taking a look out the window, Yugi leaned his head from side to side, up and down. Clouds as thick and large as mountains overlapped in the distance and blanketed the earth below.

The overhead intercom clicked on.

"_Flight attendants/Cabin crew, please be seated. Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the _fasten seat belt sign_. We are now crossing a zone of heavy turbulence. Please return your seats and keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you."_

Yugi fastened his seatbelt tighter and sunk low in his seat. Now he suddenly wished he hadn't listened to Vivian's crazy stories.

"_Hey, what's going on?"_ Seto's demanded through the phone. _"Yugi, answer me!"_

Yugi's eyes kept straying to the window each time a mild flash of light appeared. "Nothing, it's nothing. There's a storm outside. We're—" Yugi jolted in surprise when the plane suddenly took a rough dip and veered to the side, "having a lot of turbulence." He hoped it was just turbulence. Passengers started to mumble amongst themselves and shriek whenever the thunder thickly roared a boom that traveled through the plane's interior.

Another lightning bolt streaked violently across the atmosphere. Yugi swallowed, debating whether he should get some sleep or talk as long as he could with Seto. The decision was made three seconds later when the X over the electronics display glowed. "Um, Kaiba, I have to get off the cell for a while. Stay nearby in case I call."

"_Yugi Muto, don't you dare hang up this phone!"_

"I gotta go, listen I promise to call you back as soon as we get clear of this storm OK?"

"_Yugi—"_

"Bye Kaiba!"

"_Yu—"_ Click.

Yugi knew his ears were going to bleed when he called his best friend back. Sitting his phone back in his carry on, Yugi relaxed his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. His upper torso suddenly surged forward when a strong jerk propelled the plane as if being kicked in the rear. His knuckles were ash white and his purple eyes wide with anxiety. Yugi knew the captain had everything under control. At least, he hoped so. His grip securely clutched the balled ends of the armrest and he willed his mind to calm down and his stomach to settle.

The lights flickered, and then settled, half as bright as before. Soft silence followed. The thunder wasn't as noisy but the lightning remained. Yugi's shoulders deflated from their rigidness and he turned to look at the other confused passengers. There were some holding hands, a woman trying to sooth a crying baby and a man quietly whispering prayers. Yugi sighed. It was going to be a long journey. He just hoped he made it there in one piece. Listening to Seto's rants was more pleasant than this. When Yugi was asked if he'd like anything to eat, he declined. He wanted to sleep. Hopefully by the time he woke, he'd be where he needed to be.

Yugi closed his eyes, leaning his head to the side and closed his eyes, falling asleep to the calming pelt of raindrops against his window.

* * *

The sound was monstrous, the loudest to ever pierce Yugi's ears. He was snatched from a deep slumber to the strangling stagger of whining metal, shouts and groans from the plane's frame.

"What the hell?" His voice didn't quite reach his ears though he knew he spoke. He couldn't hear over the building panic tidal waving from the back of the plane to the front.

Delicate fingers lightly tapped Yugi's shoulder. He glanced up to see a black haired flight attendant.

"Please fasten your seatbelt, sir." The worried expression on her face didn't make Yugi feel any better. He glanced out the window and saw the rain drops beating against the window pane like bullets.

Yugi peered around the plane cabin to see the rest of the passengers wearing equally frighten expressions.

Yugi gritted his teeth when the undeniable crunch of something echoed from the outside. It creaked too close to be thunder. The sound was too metallic and unnatural. Yugi was lunged face first into the seat before him. A burning ache shot up to his temples and throbbed, making his eyes stung. Something this big should be able to handle whatever was being forced upon it, right? Nothing bad was happening. Nothing. Yugi wildly convinced himself the wringing cracks and unsteady wobbles were the captain's methods of steering the plane upright.

Dread squeezed his throat shut. His heart thundered and quaked in his chest and the adrenaline surge made it extremely difficult to sit still. The urge to bolt clawed at his mind, but his hands refused to listen. His fingernails dug into the leather.

Yugi stopped breathing the minute a deadly silence overcame the plane. There wasn't a motion or sound made. And then his ears popped, his stomach sunk and the plane was vertically diving from the sky.

The world shook, stuttering beneath Yugi's feet like the summons of an earthquake. "No," he whispered, fear paralyzing his heart. The couple nearby held one another and kissed, mumbling their 'I _love yous' _as tears fell from their eyes. The man cuffed his hands tighter, loudly praying to God. The woman cried with her child and horrid screams escalated from every man, woman and child onboard.

Yugi couldn't hear, couldn't breathe, and couldn't focus. The plane took on a spiral angle and quickly fell. It wasn't like anything Yugi could imagine. The metal death trap fiercely rocked and shook, thrusting people from their seats. Clinks and clacks burst from behind. A rip and thrash tore a sucking vortex in the plane. People were forcefully pulled from their seats and thrust into the weightless descent.

Yugi closed his eyes and wept. "No, no, no, no. God please, no," he prayed, he wished and he hoped. They'd be fine. Everything would be ok. Oh please—

He wasn't sure what happened next. A whipping wind spiraled from behind with invisible hands and started grasping at his body. Debris shot from every direction. Personal belonging, food and objects flew through the air, bouncing and careening off the walls. The screams grew louder the prayers were being shouted. The plunge grew in velocity, a snap and pull and the plane pulsed.

Suddenly, Yugi's body flung and tugged with jerked snatches until he was ripped from his seat and free falling in the open air. . .

All he saw was the smoky gray sky and there was the sensation of finality pumping in his veins . . .


	2. Discovery

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone, alerts, favorites, reviews and silent readers for giving this story a chance. Please enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

** Discovery**

* * *

**Zambia Ranch**

In 1972 a small industrial town was developed through the back breaking efforts of two young men, with little more than five hundred Somali shillings and a dream as wide and devoted as their love for the motherland. It was at first, a mere struggling attempt to cling onto a fading hope, for you see, the young men, being only thirteen and fifteen at the time in 1969, couldn't afford more than a few lumps of bread and beef through money earned from their mother's hard work.

She labored day in and out, at times not coming home for days in order to satisfy her employer's wishes. Their mother, Zambia Bello, worked several homes at a time for the foreign colonists who frequented the Kenya villages.

Kenya was a five mile walk from her home and as loyal as an elephant family to a migration, she never failed to arrive on time.

The scorching sun beat down on the dry lands, warming the vast plains to an unbearable ferocity as the eldest son's mother walked on her bare feet to the hut stationed on the edge of Thika town. He could only earn so much as a fifteen year old back than without having to risk leaving his younger brother alone to black marketers desiring to kidnap a young boy for profit.

Zambia always muster a smile as brilliant as the sun from her dry, sunbaked lips and carried a bold snap to her spine when she would arrive home. It was a horrible façade she put forth to assure her two sons that she could continue the work as well as love them unconditionally. Aknamkanon knew otherwise. He was old enough to interpret the sunken darkness encircling his mother's eyes, the way she wavered when walking to the bedroom to relax her blistered feet and how the sweat flowed from her rust colored skin. There were times he was afraid for the day he'd see his mother's figure distorted by the sun's massive heat waves, collapse and no longer stand.

Those fears escalated the stronger he became and the thinner his mother seemed to become. That serene, enchanting smile was becoming more reserved during the moments she noticed her sons watching her every move. How long did she think she could fool her children for long?

Sometimes, Aknamkanon would sacrifice his own meals during dinner to his mother so that she would have the strength to carry on.

"I'm as fit as an ox and twice as strong," he'd confidently vocalized in high spirits and a brawly tone. "I can carry a hundred men on one shoulder and have enough room for you."

Zambia would look at her oldest son and the see the face of a man she wished had half the courageous as he did. Alas, it could not be so. Their father preferred an existence without the burden of children and a lowly wife.

"And how do you expect to keep up that strength, boy?" she muttered in her husky, deep voice. "A strong man needs meat to fill those scrawny bones."

"So does a skinny woman," he'd argue with hints of respect and a stubbornness bearing too much strong will to conceit defeat. "I can eat anytime, Mother. Please," he would push his plate forward, not a crumb touched. "I will be fine."

Zambia, for a flicker of a moment, looked torn between submitting to her own hungers and refusing her son's offer, as appetency fought with maternal obligation. In the end, she was gratified with her willpower.

"No, my son," Zambia's said through parched, cracked lips, tongue dry and thick in her mouth, putting a tired, sweet smile as she pushed the plate away. "Don't insult your mother's hard labor. My bones may ache and my soul weary, but I work to keep you and your brother happy. That much can quail the most ruthless hunger."

That's how the dinners later were; Aknamkanon urging his mother to eat or share from his plate and Zambia refusing to take food from her children's mouth.

One night, after a heated argument between son and mother, Aknamkanon vowed never to seek his mother's company until she would stop forfeiting so much of her needs for her children. He'd left the home, running until he reached the connecting Chania and Thika Falls outside the village. It'd been his safe haven to clear his mind, to comprehend his troubles and work through them with calm meditation. The tranquil, silvery moon would be his guardian, shielded by the wispy remnants of a half-finished cloud.

The connecting rivers were quiet and soothing as ice water to a shriveled blossom. It eased his conflicted mind for with the gurgle plucks washing along the shore. Eventually, the scenic route would lead to the denser portions of the Thika forests, wildly lush with fruit trees, massive tree trunks, and at last, a small clearing filled with tightly closed flower-buds, and a thick cluster of trees surrounding the area. The silence was purged with the sputter of a loosen stream that trickled toward a small pond. In the center of the clearing was a large tree.

Aknamkanon climbed up the rough exterior of the tree with familiarity of a lover and found purchase on a jutted branch. Here, he found peace and he could think and he could imagine a world so much deserving for his mother.

"Kaka*!" a hurried, panting voice interrupted Aknamkanon just as he was merging himself with a cooler composure. The eldest Bello son, glanced between his gapped legs to see the downy black locks of his younger brother.

The young man nervously scoured the surrounding coppice, having sworn he'd seen his brother venture this way. He shoved through the brush, staying as close to the tree at all times.

Aknadin worriedly cupped his palms to his face and called out, "Kaka, where are you?"

A beat later, several shrill chirps and long winded warbles, drew Aknadin's attention upward. Dove grey eyes peered up at the thick branches, the way the twigs and sticks seemed to shudder from some unknown force. He paled whiter than his copper skin and took a step back just as a lanky arm darted out and bunched in the collar of his cream tunic. He was yanked with surprising power and pulled through the branches until propped right on top of warm, long legs.

The boy shrieked. A large hand cupped his mouth. Immediate terror tore through like a bolt of lightning and he dug his elbows into the offender's chest, pushing forward.

"Be still, mjinga*," Aknamkanon hissed as he locked his elbows in place to halt any further struggles from his resisting brother. With Aknamkanon being the taller and stronger of the pair, he was able to withstand his brother's thrashing and boney elbow thrusts.

Aknadin's muffled protests renewed at the relieving sound of his brother. The offending hand withdrew and the younger brother adjusted himself to swing his legs swung on one side of Aknamkanon's thighs.

"Ba!" Aknamkanon swatted the back of his brother's head, ignoring his shouted cry. "Kidogo mjinga*, what have I told you about sneaking out? The poarchers steal beasts as well as stupid little boys!"

"Kaka, you left," Aknadin said in a whisper barely above a spider crawl. His voice held a slight anxiety to it. "Mother worries for you every moment you're gone. Come home and sooth her tears. I hate to see her spirit bleed so."

The aforementioned brother shook his head. "I'm no good to her with a clouded mind."

"Clouded with what? Your pigheadedness?" scoffed Aknadin. "No matter how angry you are, do not shun me and mother for it!"

"I'm not shunning you when I come here!" The elder brother defended through clenched teeth. "I come to wonder and to dream."

Aknadin looked taken back by the outlandish confession. The little brother frowned speculatively, thought about it, then licked his index finger and stuck it straight in Aknamkanon's ear.

His brother jolted, one hand clapped to his ear, grey eyes wide and appalled. "What was that for?"

Aknadin stared at his index finger suspiciously and a smile slowly spread his lips. "You _are_ awake than. How can you dream with your eyes open?"

It took three seconds for Aknamkanon to piece together his brother's words, since he was still lost in utter disgust. "It's simple," he said, eyes straying every moment to the little brother's hand. When he dimmed it safe, he lowered his palm. "I allow my mind to wander away on its own to a different place. Like one I wish we could live in. A better life for me, you and mother."

"Oh!" Aknadin exclaimed, with a knowing snort. "I do that too. When you leave to dream with your eyes open, I do the same at home, but the right way."

"It's not the same," the elder brother disagreed, expression irritated. "I see visions I want, things I want, and desires I want."

"So. Do. I," Aknadin emphasized each word with a poke to his brother's shoulder. "All the time. The sun is always bright, our mother is able to sleep without worry and you and I work as one to make our own shillings. Lots and lots of shillings!" The young man broke off into a child-like mirth, laughter pouring from him with such sudden glee, neither noticed or cared how he was viewed. "I bet my dreams are more beautiful than yours."

Aknamkanon didn't mind taking the taunting bait. He was so raptured in hearing someone else share his secret wants, especially his younger brother that he drew up a leg and smiled. "I bet they aren't," he tossed back, saucily. "My dreams are as far and as vast as the savannah."

Aknadin naturally rose to the challenge, shifting himself off his brother's thighs to sit next to him. He went on to prove his imagination was ten times more lucid, a thousand times more wondrous and a million times more definite to come true.

How truly magnificent was it to find a kindred spirit like your own in your own brother whose mind could travel beyond the struggles, the regret and sorrows to a hidden oasis within his mind?

The eldest brother listened and nodded as through eloquent details, Aknadin went to describe what's always been in Aknamkanon's heart. A land full of trees pregnant with fruits, herds of wild cattle caroled in fenced acres, hunters, medicine men a plenty and the shillings that would surely follow. And, the wish to see Zambia Bello content with a reclining chair and yarn to knit socks and weave baskets for her grandchildren. The two of them, could run the ideal land with iron will and determined spirits.

It would take another three years before those dreams set into motion. With only five hundred shillings to their name, the brothers took the risks. Little by little, they trimmed at the foundations holding their illusionary world hostage. The land came first, acres upon acres of open lush green grass as smooth and cool as an emerald ocean. Succulent, rich orchards arose thereafter in throes; mangos, coco bean trees, bananas, papayas, and fields of tobacco and vegetables.

Not long after, five Ankole longhorns, four cows and one bull, were bought and raised to become a herd of one hundred and six. More houses were built upon the land to accommodate the hired workers, and families who've struggled through hardships and turmoil. The biggest bungalows were stationed in the middle of the ranch, now named Zambia to represent the love of their mother.

From their houses, the brothers could walk out and see the tree that started the conversation to their venture. The tree had since grown pass the canopy and seemed to wink from a distance at the brothers as if to compare growth.

Eight long years later in 1980, Aknamkanon and Aknadin's dreams were no longer fantasies conjured up by children. They were reality. They were real. The biggest achievement of all for the brothers was going to visit the only village bungalow decorated in African Violets. It was Zambia's home; a warm haven where the sons would greet and kiss their mother's willowy cheeks and massage her calloused knuckles. She would smile, a tired and proud one that would never know about hard labor again. She would give her sons another eight years to enjoy their hard earned world and witness the birth of all four of her grandchildren.

Aknadin was the first to marry, and smitten he was, the day he happened upon a Briton woman during a business expedition to Kenya. Her name was Charlize Din, a native born African with British roots. The woman was voluptuous in every sense of the word, thickly set, but not disgustingly so. The overflowing crimson, gold and silver sundress she wore that day accented her thick curves and seemed to bring out the sparkling blue in her eyes that were the color as a summer sky. Her lips were full and would often relax in a smirk as wicked as a mountain witch. They were married within two years and the pair bore two children: Seth Bello and Anzu Bello.

Aknamkanon was not far behind his brother in romance. It was on a cold, rainy patrol around the perimeter of Zambia Ranch when a strangled cry resonated near the fences. On horse, with several others, he tore off into the distance, thinking it could be poachers, traders, or thieves who'd snuck on his land to steal. Upon arrival he discovered something much worst.

A woman, frail and petite as a desert weed, was being beaten and molested by countless hunters. The elder Bello brother managed to chase the offenders off and tended to the mangled woman. Her wounds were cared for, for three weeks, and not once had she opened her eyes.

He checked on her every hour of every day, watching the wounds mend and the bruises vanish. Before long, she did open her eyes and Aknamkanon knew he could never leave her side. Her beauty was unlike any he'd ever seen. With meals, she'd gained weight to fill in her brittle limbs and curves. Her hair was as fiery as a volcanic outburst and she had lavender-chilled eyes that emphasized the glow of her dark brown skin. Aknamkanon was infatuated right away immediately. He followed her loyally no matter where she went and she timidly enjoyed his company. Her name, he later learned, was Desta Jaja, a runaway woman from the Eastern villages after they were raided by traders. They fell in love and married a year later. Together, they bore two children: a son named Atem Bello and another son, Heba Bello.

Through the teachings of their parents and schooling from outside sources, the children grew and began to manage the ranch in their own way. It flourished and expanded outward to reach other foreigners, modernizing bit by bit Atem and Seth ruled the majority of the ranch's operations, such as imports and exports of organized trades between other industrial towns and connected politically with other ranch chiefs. Anzu Bello handled the financial bulk of the people's, the animal and the ranch's wealth with a sharp intelligence and perspective eye. Heba Bello, the youngest of the family, controlled the hourly patrols, security and safety of the ranch, the people on the land, as well as the animals and kept diligent reports on anything out of the ordinary.

Today, he and Timaeus Deo, an Anglo-African descendant from Ghana who joined the Zambia ranch five years prior, were scouting the fences in the heavily pouring rains, when a worker claimed to spot a lion run off with one of the calves. The men were drenched to the bone, wearing red and green rubbery raincoats. Sheets of the rain slammed in intervals with whipping winds, taunting them with sudden bursts and turbulence.

The weather was traitorous this time of year. Only God knew why Atem would cast his own baby brother out in the elements.

"Sadistic bastard," Heba growled, gripping the reins on his horse to slow her stride. "Easy, girl, easy." He gave her strong neck three hard pats to calm her nerves. Something was making her skittish. Curious, the twenty year old, urged her forward a couple of steps and called a halt.

Timaeus aligned his stallion next to Heba's, and reached up to tug off his hood to reveal his sodden jet black hair and soggy teal banes. His one ash grey eye, the only lost and scarred to a leopard attack three years ago, gave the swaying plains a long scan, not noticing a thing out of place. His mustang knew differently. The animal reeled back on its heels and clicked its hooves, bouncing his massive head up and down.

"Settle down there, Hermos," Timaeus called over the raging storm. He turned his attention back to Heba, whose eyes were busily combing the grounds and bushes with a keen eye. "Do you see anything?"

Heba sucked his teeth. "Nothing!" He shivered and slinked back from a mix of beating cold rain and gusting winds. "How in the devil's name does Atem expect us to find one lion out here in this storm? The beast's probably got more sense to hide with his catch then to be out here like us!"

With a quick glance at Heba, Timaeus saw the latter looking a little troubled. "Do you think we should call off the search until the storm rides over?"

"Ha, no chance in hell!" If Heba knew his older brother, it was that the chief-in-training had no tolerance for an incomplete mission. Heba would rather cut his foot than sit through an ear-bleeding lecture from his brother.

If they could just find the rabid lion, things would fall into place from there.

Heba tried to urge his mare forward. She didn't move. Her disobedience was amazing. Out of the many horse in the ranch, she was one of the few who had the best training and followed every command.

"Raja," Heba called, popping his heels against her round flank. "Go on, girl." She didn't budge. Something was wrong. Heba figured her to be too scared of the horrible gale or spooked at the scent of predators lurking in the shadows.

"Whoa!"

Hermos reeled back on his hind legs, bucking his legs in the air. Timaeus pulled at the horse's reins until he propped down on all fours.

"What the devil is wrong with them?"

Heba shook his head. "No idea. Raja, go!" Heba tried once again with no luck. Figuring she was shook to the core by all the thunder and lightning, Heba dismounted the beast and landed with a wet slush on the muggy earth.

He pulled his long barrel rifle from the sling on his back and kept a tight grip on Raja's reins. She didn't start acting up until they reached this part of the land. That could only mean something was here that didn't belong. Walking on, he waved for Timaeus to follow behind and pushed aside the bushes with his gun. Naked twigs crunched under his weight. Heba leaned in on one particular bush to hold it down when the lightning flashed overhead.

His foot wouldn't touch down much further and he was shocked to see why and jolted back against Raja's chest.

"Timaeus! Come here!" Heba fluidly waved his long arm before kneeling down to the ground. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. After forcing off the rest of the thorny shrubbery, the lightning's lambency revealed a bloody arm and attached to it was a mangled body.

"What is it, man?" Timaeus hollered, sprinting forth with his gun cocked.

Heba reached out to remove the earthy objects, fully revealing his find.

Timaeus gasped. "A man? Is he alive?"

"I don't know," Heba said, tone shrieked with shock. The frail man's body was a wreck, face masked with dried blood and mud that caked his hair to his scalp. His clothes were ripped to shreds, clinging together by strings and his pants hung half way off his hips.

Heba thought the worse as he brushed aside the wet dirtiness on the man's face. His face was badly bruised and littered with paper thin cuts.

"Good God, what happened to him?" Timaeus voiced from behind. "He looks beaten from the inside out."

"Poachers no doubt, the bastards." Heba wouldn't put it past those hunters or traders to have tried to ruin this man's poor body. Heba's dark tanned fingers skated over the broken form, feeling for anything malformed. When Heba reached the victim's wrist he curled his index and thumb around to feel for a pulse.

"Is he alive?" Timaeus repeated with assurance in his voice that the man just might be dead.

Heba nodded. "Aye, but no telling for how long if he stays out here. He'll die for sure."

"His tribe could be looking for him."

"No one is gonna think about coming out here in this storm. He was fortunate that we were foolish enough to be out." Heba hunkered himself lower to the ground, and carefully shifted the body on its side to examine for any further injuries. His dark grey eyes grimly discovered a long gash cut through the man's shirt. No, he wouldn't survive much longer without medical attention.

"We need to take him home to Mother and Auntie."

"Are you crazy?" Timaeus had to question because of how conveniently the youngest Bello left out his hot headed brother and father's names. "You'll go this trouble for a total stranger? What will your father say?" Worst, what would Atem do? The man was known around the tribe for his steely resolves.

"My job is to uphold security, isn't it?" Heba bit off angrily. "Who cares what he thinks? And what trouble would it be? He's on our land. Should I be a coward and leave a fallen man to the elements? I'll suffer a tortured conscious for years!"

"Aknamkanon won't be happy nor will your brother."

"Then what do you suggest we do, Timaeus? Just leave him here to die alone?" Heba wiped the excess rains from his face, and pushed aside his fallen ebony hair. "You let me deal with them when we get back." Besides, he'd grown immune to their scathing tempers. Heba had plenty of visual lessons watching how his mother, Desta, dealt with her son and husband. If her patience taught Heba anything, it was to remain calm while they tired themselves out with their stubbornness.

Aghast at his employer's brother's foolishness, Timaeus clenched his hands hard by his side resisting the urge to smack some sense into the youth. Heba could deny not being as stubborn as his father and brother all he wanted. Timaeus knew otherwise.

"Fine," he said scathingly, not liking the idea one bit. "We take him home. But after that, we need to find out what tribe he's from and get him back soon. We don't need any unnecessary conflicts." Pushing up to his feet, Timaeus went off to gather Hermos and Raja closer.

Heba mounted Raja, patting her mane softly to sooth her nervousness. "Give him to me." Heba held out his arms.

And Timaeus looked at him like he'd grown an extra head. "We shouldn't move him should we?"

Heba sighed long and irritated. As much as he enjoyed Timaeus' company, sometimes too much to be considered healthy in his father's eyes, the dark haired man wasn't that bright.

"How else will we get him to the village?"

"But Old Lady Saga says you should never move an injured person. We could cause more harm than good."

"Old Lady Saga doesn't know what's talking about. Now, give 'em here." Heba beckoned with his hands.

Taking a deep breath, Timaeus conceded defeat and as delicate as placing crystal on a table, lowered himself to pick up the crumbled man. Timaeus lifted him up to Heba, pity entering his eyes for the man because his weight was so nonexistent, he could've floated away.

Heba carefully settled the man on his chest, shielding his face with his raincoat and sheltering him from the blasting rains. Picking him up was like lifting a newborn, so fragile and weak. Heba kicked his heels to Raja's sides and started at a gradual trot home. Timaeus flanked his right side, stealing curious glances over at the stranger's face.

Heba felt so much pity for him and questions quickly flooded his mind. How on earth did he get out here? How did he get injured? Was it really poachers or traders and if so, how did he escape being sold? God forbid, if he was a rape victim. Heba glanced down at the man's face, noticing how . . . strange and distinct his features were.

His skin was too pale to be from South African, though he could be a Briton descendent like his Auntie. He looked so very young, and skinny. Much too skinny. And his skin was clammy and filthy from the rains, blood and mud. Placing his palm on the small of the stranger's back, Heba shifted him closer to his chest. He would need all the warmth he could from the chill.

Thoughts of his brother's reaction started to brew in his head. Atem wouldn't like this at all. Finding strangers and bringing them to the village wasn't admissible because of the assumptions that new strangers could be a danger to the women and children.

As the ranch's outline began to trance the horizon, Heba swallowed the tinge of anxiety that usually clogged his chest before a confrontation with his father and brother.

Timaeus' large hand clapped his friend's shoulder. "Be brave."

"Tsk." Easier said than done.

* * *

The occasional flare of the night storm filtered through the windows, brilliantly radiating the cream, emerald and brown interior designed office, spotlighting blues and whites on Atem's desk. He was in his personal office, working through an endless stack of documents needing his secondary approval alongside Seth's signature. The papers were stacked as high as his brow, neatly confined in a towering pile, just in reach to be grabbed, read, signed and transferred to the smaller pile to his right.

The dreary task left him little time to do much else, besides answer phone calls, phone conferences, and meetings with his father, uncle and cousins.

After declining a transportation agreement from another village, Atem paused to roll his tender shoulders and crack his joints out of their stiffness. Swirling around in his leather seat, Atem glanced out the window above his head, seeing the abusive slap of tree trunks refusing to kneel before the howling winds.

'_He must be wondering where I am by now,' _Atem wearily though, giving his mind a moment to wander to a certain someone. Drumming his fingers on his desk top, he pursed his lips in a firm line. He should call to see what he's doing? Maybe he was as bored as he was. No, he was probably angry. Atem had promised to be ready for supper about three hours ago and hear it was nearing the fourth.

With a weary sigh, Atem absently stopped tracing circles on his desk and leaned forward to cup his face in his arms. He hadn't had much sleep for the past three days, because of all the issues running about on the ranch, having to deal with those damn poachers and that blood thirsty lion getting too close to the livestock.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Come in!" Atem admitted with a muffled grunt.

There was hesitation. Then a beat later, the gently opened and an erupting head of crimson, ebony and gold poked in. The sight of seeing his fiancée's head tucked in his arms brought a small smile to Yami's face, but he knew Atem wasn't sleep.

Yami entered the officer, wearing a light blue, long sleeve tunic and white linen cargo pants, bare foot. This office was connected to the five bedroom, three bathroom, bungalow hut they shared on the edge of the village.

"Yami?" A hinted tenor of relief was heard in Atem's voice when he lifted his head and saw it was indeed, the love of his life.

Yami took a few moments to drink in Atem's appearance. In the four years they've known one another, looking at the exotic man was like being welcomed into the sun's morning embrace; so warm and inviting. He fit the profile of _chief _down to a tee, even while casually leaning back in his chair. His aloof grin tugged at his full lips, graced on a caramel chiseled face. Those lavender eyes were hauntingly cool and imposingly majestic. His body was lean as a pride runner, legs as long as the safari and the rest of him evenly toned. Sex appeal just rolled off him in abundance.

"Like what you see?"

Yami's eyes darted back up to find a twinkle in Atem's eyes that matched the mischievous tilt of his lips.

Yami's dark burgundy eyes returned the unspoken answer with a twinkle of his own, just as shameless and teasing. "I do, very much." He pushed off the door and approached. "Though I wish I could like it more in the bedroom."

It was Atem's turn to take in the regal figure before him. Tall, slender and impossibly handsome, Yami's appearance was one that deserved more than a mere glance. He exuded a relaxed, constant sway in his stride and a hidden danger beneath his aura. Yami was like rain before storm, mild and tame until flustered with a strong enough force to push him over the edge. Atem has seen the way men and women would appreciate Yami's German and Tanzanian heritage with open admiration, because he wore the light tanned skin well. It was a feeling Atem was all too familiar with because he too would marvel at the twenty seven year old with perverse intentions. Atem was wise and fast enough to snatch him up before someone else could pursue Yami and he never regretted a moment.

Yami sat on the edge of Atem's desk, legs gapped and hands resting between as he looked at Atem with a peculiar eye. "You're tired aren't you?"

"I am," Atem admitted, stretching his arms and settling back in his chair. "But there's no sleep for the lazy. Someone needs to finish up here if we're to have peace later. . ." He yawned.

"Poor thing," Yami chuckled.

Atem's eyes widened a smidge when he noticed the way Yami's tunic threatened to slip off his creamy shoulders.

When he glanced peering closer at Yami's face, the tint of red striking his face was uncanny. And his plan was so plainly obvious, that Atem couldn't resisting being lured into the trap. He reached out to rub the back of his calloused hand over the smooth skin.

"Oh my, you smell nice." He did. The scent of mango and tart kiwis seemed to filter in the room.

Yami's resolve almost shattered. The rough texture gliding over his skin felt like grazing needles

"You came to seduce me into bed?" Atem hummed.

Yami's fiery gaze met with cool lavender, before he scoffed. "I had no such intentions. If you would come to dinner every once in a while, maybe you wouldn't think I had to tempt you for sex."

Atem's fingers were finding Yami's skin more attention worthy then the brewing attitude. "Why don't we fix that now? I can spare a few minutes."

"A few?" Yami snorted and smacked the hand away when it hooked in his collar. "Is that all I'm good for now? Your company is so far and few, I hardly know the man I sleep with anymore. I feel like the bed sheets you tug on when you sleep and toss away when you wake."

Atem's face jerked back like a cobra stuck out at him. "You lie! I've never treated you so poorly."

Yami's shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. "Of course, you wouldn't notice," he grumbled softly. "Never mind. When will you come to bed?"

"As soon as I finish here, but don't change the subject." Atem stood from his chair and stepped up to stand between Yami's thighs. He rested his large palms on top of the thick muscles and squeezed, leaning into until they shared on breath. "Tell me what you're on about. I haven't neglected you. We were together a few days ago."

"You say that as if we spent the entire day together. You saw me for an hour before you were fetched by your father!"

"Ah, kulani*—"

"Don't you dare curse at me!"

"Then make sense!" Atem snapped back. "How do you expect me to keep this ranch together and tend to you like a child? You knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted my proposal."

"All I'm asking for is a little of your time!"

"Don't start this nonsense all over again just because I was late to fuck you!"

Yami's eyes widened at Atem's words. His glare wavered before he looked to the side, gnawing at his bottom lip.

Atem's mouth opened and closed as if he could attract the words back into his mouth, but there was no turning back. Why did he always have to be so damn temperamental?

"Kinyesi*," Atem cursed reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Malaika*. I open my mouth and things come out without me thinking. Forgive me?"

Yami kept his head turned away, breathing a slow inhale and exhale.

A strong hand gripped his chin and tilted it up, forcing a now crimson glare to face the apologetic pleads of lavender. Atem edged his body closer, using his height to his advantage to tower over Yami's seated position.

"I'm sorry, Malaika," he whispered, using his other arm to wrap around Yami's waist, pulling him to the edge of the desk.

Yami's resistance melted in seconds. His hands came up and tentatively bunched in Atem's dark blue tunic and gently pulled. Atem gladly came forward, using his other arm to fasten around Yami's body.

"I'm sorry," Atem whispered once more, lips pressed into the shell of Yami's ear, who felt the baritone voice send quakes through his bones. Quiet apologetic words came between light butterfly kisses, very moist and very warm. A smothering tongue licked the curve of Yami's earlobe, dipping in and out.

Yami kept his moan at bay, not allowing a single sound to escape his lips because he wanted to sustain his grudge a while longer, but oh, it was difficult when your lover knew all of your sensitive spots.

Steering away from the savory neck, Atem moved in to take Yami's lips in a kiss. Red eyes slowly closed, relishing in the fire pooling in his stomach and the motion of thick lips moving over his. Tanned hands sought out his face to caress his cheek bones, his pointed chin and the dip of his collarbone. Yami's fingers weaved through Atem's slightly course hair, tugging him inward as his fervor escalated.

The pair simultaneously twisted their heads to the side, deepening the kiss; tongues swirling and greedily milking the flavors in their mouths. Tender and steadily growing heated, Atem's hands dropped as low as the surface of the desk, and cupped Yami's ass cheeks, roughly pulling him off. Sounds of lust, of desire and of impending sex noisily resonated in the room with wet slurps and hums.

Yami entwined his legs around Atem's waist and his arms around Atem's neck, a dark moan rumbling his chest. Atem answered the tenor with a deeper, animal grunt of his own.

"Damn," Yami hissed when Atem worked their bodies into sensual grind. His crotch roughly rolled against Atem's stiff dick, wringing a feral groan from the older man.

Atem's hand snuck inside Yami's tunic to palm his lightly scarred chest when a rough knock brought the pair from their intimate paradise.

"Son of a bitch," Atem broke the kiss first. He looked at the door, than at Yami's kiss swollen lips. He didn't debate about it three seconds before he went back to ravishing him.

_Knock! Knock! _

"_Atem!"_

"Ignore it," Atem softly said, nibbling Yami's bottom lip. "They'll leave."

Unfortunately, they didn't. The persistent knocking continued on until they transformed into loud, thunderous bangs.

Atem tore himself away long enough to bark, "Go away!" before gripping Yami's chin and forcing another tantalizing kiss on his lips.

"_Atem, your father has sent for you. He says it's urgent!" _

Yami breathlessly eased the kiss to a halt. "You better get that."

Atem smirk. "Believe me, I'm trying." His hot kisses left wet paths down Yami's neck.

"No, the door, go—stop it, Atem—go see what your father wants," Yami clawed at Atem's back when a velvety spot on his collar bone was sharply nipped with teeth. His grip on Atem's head tightened, and he responded by sinking his teeth deeper in the tender flesh. Atem cried out and ground his hips onto the lean body, but his plea was ignored

"_Atem!" _

"Go, just go." Yami forced Atem's face away in order to clear both their heads. The spell was broken. Their libidos were on fire.

And Atem was pissed.

Angrily, he set Yami on his feet and didn't bother to adjust his clothes because whatever ruffled appearance he had, he wanted the dumbass at the door to see what he'd just interrupted and what kind of punishment that sort of interruption entailed.

He gripped the doorknob and ripped it open. "What!" he shouted at the cowering employee. Atem's jaw tensed, teeth grating together like jagged glass.

The young boy gulped, soaked to the bone, shivering like a rat. "H-Heba has returned from security, Mr. Bello. The chief calls for you to his house."

"This couldn't wait?" Atem snapped. "Tell him to continue without me."

"I cannot sir. The chief says Saba is not to leave until Saba is with Atem." The scrawny young man puffed out his chest, knees buckling under the intensity of Atem's glare.

"Stop it, Atem," Yami sternly whispered said from behind, slender arms encircling Atem's waist from behind. "You needn't be so nasty to Saba. He was only doing as he was ordered," he said in a soft note that melt a degree of Atem's anger. Yami urged the young man to speak with a patient flick of his wrist. "What does the chief want, Saba?"

The young man, now knowing he had the protection from Atem's rage, beamed with bucked teeth and bright brown eyes. "Heba has come back with a man. Saba no know who he be. Someone near death they found with blood . . ."

Perhaps it was the lack of response the chief gave the young teen that made him pause midsentence or the wild way his eyes grew three sizes too big for his face and then narrowed to then slits. But what was clear, was the rage emitting from the older man in throes, tumbling off him in heated waves.

"Heba, did what?" Atem coldly questioned.

* * *

_Kaka= Brother_

_mjinga= fool_

_Kidogo mjinga= little fool_

_kulani= damn_

_Malaika= angel_

_Kinyesi= shit_


	3. Decisions

**Author's Rant:** Thank you all for reading. Please enjoy!

* * *

**Decisions**

* * *

Desta Bello's perceptive and insightful senses could pick up on the tiniest frailty, thanks to years of personally proclaiming herself as the medicine woman of the entire Zambia Ranch. When her husband could not be near, she took order into her own hands and carried on as any Queen would for her King. If needed for wisdom, her sons, niece and nephew knew she was but one step away. With the sterner and hard pressed Charlize by Desta's side, together they were a force to be reckoned with.

In a more subtle, exclusive way, she had the stubbornness of a viper refusing to slack the squeeze on its prey. When it came to the lives of the villagers and her family, no force could stop her from caring or protecting them. When Atem and Heba were just boys she'd risked her life against a rabid water buffalo, rampaging in the fields in a mad charge. She didn't think, she only acted when deterring the beast from his targets and leading it off to chase her instead. Because of her valiant heroics the animal gorged her in the thigh and drive her body into the ground. The pain was nothing and the tears of her children meant they would live. Fortunately the beast found no use for killing a human that day and hurried back to its herd. The scar from its horn stayed and stretched along her upper thigh and made her limp noticeably from one place to the next.

It was for efforts not in vain. For her children or anyone else, she would gladly do it again.

Over the time spent living on these grounds, Desta's seen the worst kinds of sickness, the most brutal of injuries and the signs of impending death. Her fading bright hair and slightly wrinkled lavender eyes gave her the appearance of an aged Queen resigned from decades of ruling a kingdom, but it was her soft and kind smile that lifted sharp cheekbones and a narrow nose that radiated a regal glow about her. That's why when she heard the distress calls of her one of her children, she knew something was wrong.

Besta was the first to rush her youngest son inside when he galloped on his horse to her front door, shouting for help with a heavy bundle in his arms. Once she saw the face, Desta responded quickly by hurrying Heba to a spare bedroom inside her and Aknamkanon's hut.

"Out of those clothes, Heba! You soak the floors and my carpet!" Desta said, shooing her youngest son out the door.

Heba resisted, softly pushing back. "What of the man, Mother? I want to stay and see how he is."

"Worry more for your health, then his. I will care for him. Now go!" Desta shoved him out and closed the door. Her son's concerns were touching and so full of sweetness, but his worries should be more towards defending his actions to his father and brother. Desta knew when Saba returned with Atem in tow, there'd be hell on earth.

Standing near the doorway, Desta turned inquisitive eyes on the young man lying helplessly broken and torn on the bed with mud and blood and water bleeding into the red, gold and white silk sheets. He looked so young and so frozen in fright the way his lips trembled and his chin quaked from beneath Heba's discarded raincoat. Desta, able to sympathize with being left for dead in the middle of nowhere, immediately felt this desire to protect this one the way she would her own children. Call it a maternal instinct because staring so long at his face, put her in the mind of a nursing a hurt lamb.

Straighten her long knee-length orange and emerald floral sundress, Desta approached the bedside and carefully kneeled down. The boy's skin was deadly pale, like fogged ice and his lips were cracked and dry. Leaning forward, Desta gently held the boy's face and pressed her lips to his, lightly licking away the salty grit of earth and blood and dryness until they were somewhat smooth.

"Mother?"

Desta leaned away and glanced over her shoulder. As she'd asked, Heba had changed out of his rain soaked clothes and into a white t-shirt with dark grey cargo shorts. "Fetch a bowl of warm water and a cloth, my son," she ordered with a flick of her wrist. "He burns with fever and shivers with chill."

"Will he live?" Heba questioned, not moving.

"He may but if not, let him pass cleansed and not soiled with whatever has caused this upon him."

"Yes, Mother." Heba left with haste to gather the supplies.

Desta remained still with a wandering gaze, examining her patient's body. _Where should I begin_? She vaguely debated, seeing some cuts needing more attention than the broken bones imprinted against his skin. Desta's nimble fingers danced over the torn fragments of clothing left and tugged, further ripping the clothes away. Heba's raincoat was pulled off fully and eased from under the stranger's body. Now bare from the waist up, she noticed the oddly jutted points on his chest. There were two, no, three. There were three broken ribs and looking at his left arm, it was broken as well. The severity of his injuries was amazing. How on earth he was still alive in the elements was beyond her.

The door creaked open, signaling Heba's return with the water and rags. He tip toed inside and kneeled next to his mother, dipping the rags in and wringing them free of the excess water.

"Start on his face with gently wipes and pats," Desta instructed. "Do not touch his left arm or his chest. The bones there are broken. We needn't cause further damage until he is taken to the hospital."

"Yes Mother." Heba obediently did as he was told, missing the left arm and chest all together as he cleaned off the caked on blood and dirt.

They worked together in sync, as Heba did as a child by his mother's side, stroking, clipping and doing away with the filth on the boy's body.

"You did well, my son." Desta whispered, a small smile on her face. "This boy may live and if so, he'll have you to thank."

Heba nodded. "I felt sorry for him, Mother. Someone must've hurt him and left him for dead. Who could do something so horrible to another man?"

"Evil lives within us all, dear child. No one knows why people do such things. Do not hate them for it." Desta pulled away her washcloth, now stained with red and brown, dipped it in the bowl and returned to her duties. Strangely, she couldn't stop examining the boy's face. "Hmm."

"Hmm?" Heba repeated after his mother. "You only do that when something interests you."

Something did interest her greatly. As more and more of the young man's face came forth from the dirt and grime, Desta noticed an odd foreign handsomeness about him. His face, for now, was all she would be able to clean until Seth and Atem were fetched and persuaded to help with more of the cleaning. His closed eyes were shaped like mangos, his lips were perked like a heart and his skin was the color of the African during autumn. The few crumbs of dirt that fell away from his hair revealed a mass of colors, particularly those blond banes sticking to his forehead. There was so much hair beneath this junk, Desta couldn't wait to wash it.

Heba caught on to the far off expression on his mother's face and curiously stared down at the man, pondering what it was she saw that he didn't. Tilting his head, it was no mystery that the man was pretty enough, but he just didn't seem, well, like them. His nose was too narrow and straight, his cheeks were more round instead of high and his skin was paler than Charlize, Anzu and Yami's.

"My, what a beautiful face. What fine children he would make," Desta absently mumbled as she traced an airy line over the stranger's cheeks. "And what lovely skin he has."

"Mother! The man is hurt and already you're matching him off to one of the girls?"

"Hush, Heba!" Desta snippily said. "I know the boy's injuries are dire. Can I not be hopeful for his future? Should he heal, who's to say he has a home to go to? He may very well marry off to one of the girls here."

True. Heba hadn't thought that far ahead. His only thought had been getting this man some help. Anything more than that hadn't crossed his mind.

The front door opened and slammed, not closed, against the howling winds and thunderous blasts from outside. Desta and Heba shared a simultaneous sigh as the booming voices of their loved ones piled in. The particularly noisy Atem's voice gradually growing louder and louder, as he migrated toward the spare bedroom. Desta steadily rose to her feet, placing a protective hand over the unconscious boy's face as if to shield him away from the looming danger. Heba, similarly stood to join his mother's side, feet spread should width apart and arms folded tight across his chest.

There was no knock. Her son simply barged right in and had it not been for Heba's presence, he could've easily tackled right over Desta's petit self. Atem was sodden from head to toe in rainwater, much to Desta's protests about tracking the outdoors, indoors and she mentally vowed to make jim clean up after himself

"What ails you to have brought this man into our village?" Atem was the first to angrily ask. "You sick in the head, man?"

"I did what was right, brother." Heba turned and pointed at the stranger's sleeping face "If I had left him out there, he was sure to die!" "

"So, he is alive," Seth softly concluded for the trio as he walked in, much quieter. "For how long is the question."

Desta scoffed. "With the noise of so many loud men, it's a wonder the child hasn't been scared to death!" She lightly stepped up to her nephew and son with a sternness circling her eyes. "What brings you all here causing such a fuss? The boy breaths shallow and his bones are as brittle as twigs. Do you fear a weakened soul so much to crowd him like this?"

"We don't know who he is or where he is from, Mother," Atem calmly said with a hard set jaw. "Who's to say he isn't a poacher or worse, a trader for the black market. He could get well and soon be off with our children!"

Desta glared. "Who's to say he's either of those and we leave him out to die an unjust death?"

"Better to be safe and well, than to risk so many for the sake of one!"

"I will judge that for myself!"

"Your kind heart is too foolish to see what fact is—"

"Watch your tone with me, boy!" Desta growled, index finger extended and pressed like the tip of a blade beneath her oldest son's chin. "I raised you, not the other way around. I've taught you better than to be such a cruel, harsh, brooding man. How is it your younger brother has more sense to help a fallen man and you, who've I told to feed with sugar instead of salt, cannot do the same?"

Atem's adam's apple dipped and rose under his mother's sharp finger as she dazed down at her, stomach heavy, like the little boy who was caught stealing apples from the orchard. His lavender eyes, so much like the woman before him, softened. "Mother, he could be dangerous. I'm only worried for your life and everyone else in the village." Atem gathered her delicate hands between his harder, calloused ones and kissed the palms. "Please do not be angry with me for only loving you so much."

Warmth blossomed in Desta's gaze. "I love you as well. But that's no excuse to cast out the weak when so many before him have had to only ask to live here and you allowed it."

"That was_ after_ an extensive background check was done, Auntie," Seth added in. "We have no idea who this stranger is. Questions are left unanswered and for how long? He may be our enemy and that provides too much time for possible peril."

"And how exactly will we find that out if we throw him to the dogs?" bellowed Heba.

Atem turned a renewed glare on his younger brother. "Seth speaks more sense then you, _wajinga kidogo ndugu_*. You'll not only deal with Father's rage if your kindness winds up killing off children, but the villagers as well as your family. Did you think of that when you decided to bring home another pet?"

"No, I didn't assume immediate storms, blood and violence as you always do," snapped Heba. "I thought of what would come from helping a poor man who had no one but a lonely heartbeat to keep him company!"

"Ha!" Atem taunted with a snort. "You try to explain this to father and uncle when they return from town. See if you'll still have mother here to protect you then."

Heba stalked up to Atem, face to face, chest to chest, dark lavender eyes blazing. "I don't need mother's protection from the likes you, father, uncle or any man," he growled lowly.

The brother's stared heatedly, a battle fiercely tensed thick as mud in the air and impending rage threatening to divide their already strained relationship. This was not the way of brothers, Desta sadly saw as she looked between her children. Their relationship has drastically changed since Heba left to attend college in Kenya. Atem saw his brother's inspiration for better education as an arrogant attempt to say he could do much better than the ranch. Heba didn't see it as any such thing. He only wanted more opportunities opened up to him so that he could help excel the ranch to greater heights. Atem was just afraid of losing the ranch's traditional ways to the modernized poisons of the world.

"This comes as no surprise," a quirky, feminine voice said from the doorway. "My brother and cousins going at each other's throats like starved dogs for a bone. Men know nothing of diplomacy."

Anzu's accented tease drew the attention of said family members and she met their glares with bored cobalt eyes. She was dressed in a billowy black and yellow night gown, which swelled over her pregnant belly and hovered just above her knees. Her dark brown hair was braided in tiny plaits and red beads for good fortune. And like everyone else who walked in, she was soaked to the bone.

"Shouldn't the heavily pregnant be on bed rest?" Seth glowered noticing the obscene print of his sister's dress on her body. "You are soon to birth my niece and here you stand like the deed's been done."

"Oh hush, Seth." Anzu flicked her wrist at her brother like he were a bothersome mosquito. "The baby's no sooner to be here than the next harvest. And who can rest with the thunder that booms from this room? I can hear you all from my hut and Akefia has to hunt in the morning. My tossing and turning would help him none."

Seth folded his arms, poised as the typical protective brother. "My nephew?"

"Bakura is sleeping sound for the moment." Anzu peeked around Seth's massive height and smiled. "Ah, so he is the reason my family is so worked up." Not bothering to ask, Anzu simply waddled her way inside the bedroom and walked straight between the fuming brothers in order to get a closer look at the stranger. She thought he looked very odd and odd was funny in her opinion.

"Does anyone know who he is?"

"That's what we'd like to know," Atem pointedly said. "We're all in the dark."

"Then why do you all stand here like trees? Your feet have no roots. Take him to the hospital!"

"In this weather?" Heba shrieked. He made a point of walking to the nearest window and pulling the curtains aside. "You're mad, woman! Like the devil I'll go out there again!"

The woman nodded. "Then he is to be cared for here." Anzu leaned away, hands cupping her ample stomach and sighed. "We've no choice but to help him. If he's a danger we kill him. I don't the problem is so difficult to solve. Akefia would have no problem cutting the man's head off and using it for football."

Atem grimaced, remembering the last time his cousin's husband had did that exact thing to a trader he tortured and killed off the lands for wandering too close to the village children. He sighed. "For the moment than. He stays. As soon as the weather clears, he must be taken to the hospital." Atem lifted a dark eyebrow at Heba. "Should he awaken, he's your responsibility."

Heba curtly nodded. He had no problem with that. Instincts filled him from the sole of his feet to the tips of his hairs to be the guardian over this person. He knew what he'd done was a good thing. No matter how against the idea his brother was.

Desta touched Heba's shoulder, causing the twenty year old to smile down at her. "I will help you, son. Together, we will make sure he lives and grows strong." Desta couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt this urgency surging through her to ensure this boy's health stabilized. He just may be the new face this village needed. For now, she'd help tend to his wounds and deal with her husband when he returned.

With most of the debating now complete, Yami quietly crept inside the bedroom, noticing the rigid mold of his lover's shoulders and the stiff set of his jaw. Atem was angry, that much was certain. Yami had hear snippets of the disagreement between the family and when he saw Anzu enter, knew she'd be able to settle the ruckus. Desta could've done it herself, but for the sake of the stranger held back her voice. Yami knew she'd eventually get her say to them soon enough.

"Shemeji*!"

Yami smiled warmly at the informal greeting from Heba and entered the bedroom into his open arms.

"Why were you not in here, Yami?" Heba chuckled, squeezing Yami to his chest. "You could've sweet talked my brother into allowing this man to stay instead of all of using having to deal with his thick-headedness."

"I doubt I would've been able to do much with that temper of his," said Yami. He stepped away and looked over to see if Atem would respond to the barb. Naturally, he didn't but that was because his eyes were too focused on the face of a foreigner in his parent's home, on his homeland, in this room.

Yami sighed through his nose and patted Heba's hands in silent assurance as he nodded to the family and stepped up to behind to wrap his arms around Atem's waist. Atem's hands came to rest on the tanned ones cupped over his stomach and leaned his head back on top of Yami's.

"What is it?" he tiredly questioned.

Yami shrugged, nuzzling his nose in the back of Atem's neck. He didn't mind the cold rain soaking through his clothes, as he was just as wet from the rain. "I just thought you needed it." He heard and felt Atem's chuckle. "Really, I know you're worried."

"I am."

Yami shifted to have a look at the unmoved body as well. He'd expected the typical African immigrate who could've gotten lost out in the world. What he wasn't expecting was the sudden surprise at the unusually pale skin, round eyes and fragile limbs. He was so caught up in shock, he hadn't noticed he pulled his grasp away from Atem went over to join Desta by her side.

"May I?" He requested.

Desta nodded.

Yami kneeled down and on closer inspection, wanted to see if this young man was possibly a Briton or of foreign descent like himself. It was very hard to tell from how round and plush his features were. Nothing on him was sharp and defined. His blond banes reminded Yami of stringed sunshine after a rain storm. A smirk, he hadn't known appeared, tugged at his lips, the longer he stared. He reached out and brushed away more bits of dirt and flakes of blood to reveal more of the stranger's hair. It was very soft. Very, very soft and could be fine as silk when properly washed.

Interesting.

"Will he stay?"

Atem tensed at the sudden interest. "For the time being. Why?"

Yami didn't look behind him to see the displeasure in Atem's face. He didn't need too. He could hear it just fine. "Just curious."

Heba twisted his lips at his brother's attitude and rolled his eyes. "Mother shouldn't we all get to bed now? It will be sunrise and the ranch will need attending too.

"Yes, that would be best," Desta murmured, studying the way Yami watched over the young man's face.

"Especially you, blasted woman!" Heba pouted at Anzu. "If my little cousin is born with the head of a wart hog, I shall not claim her. No amount of blood can make me!"

"Don't speak the curse of ugly on my unborn child, fool!" Anzu swatted her hand on Heba's arm. The two left, arguing between each other with Seth behind.

Atem hesitated at the doorway with narrowed eyes. Yami hadn't budged an inch. You'd think he'd never see a pale skinned man before. "Let's go!" he roughly barked.

Yami shifted on his numbing knees, the smile still prominent on his face. What made him smile this way, he couldn't understand. This feeling was so strange and so new, like the swallowed taste of hot cider.

"Yami!"

"Hush, Atem!" Desta said to her son, ignoring his put off expression. "Yami is a grown man. He'll be along in a moment. You don't need an extra pair of feet to get home."

Atem huffed, and turned on his heel, leaving the room. Yami would follow later. He just, well, he just couldn't explain his rapture with staring so intently at this stranger's face. He felt the need to shelter him from the world, the way a father would a child or a strong husband to his wife.

"May I stay to help you, Mother Desta?" Yami quietly asked. "If I'm not in the way, I would very much like to assist you with his care."

Desta held back the giggle in her throat. "Of course, my son. Stay as long as you wish."

Yami was glad for the lengthy permission. He didn't think he could stop staring at the man's face anytime soon.

* * *

A five hundred thousand dollar vase shattered against a plastered wall in a dark office room. Nothing made sense. None of it made any sense! He'd just spoke to him a few hours earlier! So how on fucking earth could the plane have crashed just like that?

It was the question Seto Kaiba's voice angrily hammered into the phone with the airport authorities as he paced back and forth before his desk, white blazer discarded and fingers clenched in a death grip around his pen.

"Why do you keep repeating the same fucking thing to me? I don't care how insignificant your patrol services are! Give me results!" Seto stopped walking to stare out the window, pearls of rain dribbling down a lonely trail on the transparent glass. Lightning angrily flickered in the distance. A damned storm caused this. Some reckless force of nature that the captain of the plane should've been able to tame but look at what his inadequate training has caused.

Seto had first heard on the news an hour ago of the airplane flight to Africa having crashed. Camera shots of the mangled metallic structure sent his heart racing and his anger exploded. The dinner he'd scheduled exclusive to enjoy with Jordan was canceled and long forgotten during the three hours he's spent on the phone going back and forth with the administrators, managers, and whomever else was in charge.

When the operator sadly informed him of the plane's number and destination, it nearly undid his composure. However, being the practical man he was, Seto refused to believe his best friend was gone. Yugi, that stupid fool, should've stayed when Seto told him. He knew his friend didn't deserve to waste his talents on that undeserving country. Now look? He was possibly hurt and scared out of his mind.

But dead, he'd better not be.

"Look, until you have a body before me, I refuse to believe this inexcusable dribble!" Seto walked over to the side wall where an emerald glass vase was stationed on a marble podium. "Then call the damn Marines, the Coast Guard, the Navy, damn you!" He shouted into the phone. "There has to be at least one survivor! I don't care how destroyed the plane is! Salvage it and look around! Search the surrounding area, scout out the perimeter, I don't give a damn what you do!"

Seto's shoulders slumped an inch from their tightness as the operator, for the tenth time, softly and patiently told him of the extensive search that was performed. There were no survivors. The plane was in ruins. If there had been survivors had long since perished to the elements or were hunted by the animals. There were bodies but none of them fit the description of a Yugi Muto. That idiot. That fucking idiot! Why did he gave to go? Seto told him it'd be a bad idea! He knew something dangerous would happen.

"Then search again! I don't care what you have to do! Just find him!" His throat constrict so quickly, he couldn't allow his next few words to be heard. The thickness wouldn't allow it. Seto's phone was viciously slammed on the carpeted floor, shards of glass springing from the screen.

The vase met a similar fate, broken and glistening like green tears in the cascading moonlight and the shadow of a lonely figure, who refused to mourn the death of his best friend. The one person he would ever admit to calling his best friend. Years of friendship and trust Seto had foolish bestowed someone, gone to waste . . . "Yugi . . . damn you."

* * *

**TBC: Yugi wakes up next chapter ^_^**

_Shemeji= Brother-in-law_

_Wajinga kidogo ndugu= Foolish little brother_


	4. Beginning

**Author's Rant:** Thanks for reading! Cannot proofread until after work!

* * *

**Beginning**

* * *

_He was on the edge of consciousness several times, slowly and wet, as though swimming through beneath an obsidian void. In sudden flashes, Yugi thought he could call forth a tiny bit of strength to open his eyes, but failed each time. He settled for the brief moments of pellucidity behind his eyelids, shadows traveling from one side to the next. _

_The smell of violets soothe him, but with that scent came lapses of pain. Yugi felt vulnerable to whoever it was causing him this gentle, calm agony. Their touches were apologetic towards the end. Maybe that was why he didn't feel so scared. What filled him with panic were the times the chills were eclipse his body in roaring tides. His bones quaked, his skin chapped and he couldn't move off his back. There was always a kind warmth to come later. Sometimes it was wide and cottony. Other times it was heavy, smooth and hot. _

_Tepid wet swathes stroked over his body in precise, limited marathons across his body. His feverish body welcomed the relaxing caresses. The violet smells roamed around him every day, returning again and again for long periods. New sensations came with the violet's arrival, such as the warm pressure against his lips and the subtle flow of cool fluids into his mouth. Light drags against his throat, massage the water down into his chest like the compress of ice. _

_In the darkness, he felt scared. Yugi was always falling. There was always this intense rumble and savage beat of baritone booms. The dreams were demons, constantly pulling at his arms and legs, bringing him down and down with them into an eternal descent. His arms flared, his legs kicked and his head lolled from side to side, fighting against them for his freedom. But then, the fall would cease to exist. Yugi would land on the pad of a soft, merciful relief, cupping his brow and whispering words he couldn't comprehend. _

_Yugi didn't need to. He felt their calming meaning and the blazing desire to mend his fears. How could he thank the ones protecting him? Helping him. His hunger was always sated with a foreign deliciousness and his parched tongue was forever bathed with the blessed tastes of water. Staying awake became harder and harder as time went on. How long was it? Days, weeks? Yugi couldn't remember. _

_He couldn't remember . . . he couldn't . . . remember . . ._

_Yugi didn't understand. He didn't know what it meant. All he did know was that his strength was steadily returning by puzzle pieces until at long last he was whole. _

When the young man opened his eyes, his temples throbbed like the sudden collision of trains traveling from opposite ends. He shut his eyes against the blinding, white lights and the pounding pain terrorizing him. His left arm angrily protested against any movements. His sides burned from within and his and his bottom lip felt like it'd been gnawed off.

It was a gradual struggle, adjusting to the white lights intensity. The young man's nose twisted when he caught the whiff of rubbing alcohol, medications and the sterilized chill. His left eye slipped open, beating the light's glare. Everything was blurry, and discombobulated. He was vaguely aware of his left hand being encased in a rough and warm grasp, soft and light. The young man heard shifting from the side he couldn't see and when he turned, pain penetrated his temples, causing a long whimper to push from his dried throat.

"Shh, be still child. You're safe," said a quiet voice.

The young man's eyes shot open. The lights no longer fazed and the pain was momentarily forgotten as in jerked attempts, he managed to look and focus in on the person who he saw was the one holding his hand.

Beautiful walnut shaped eyes swam into focus, joined with a smile as bright as the morning sun. "You're finally awake. Thank goodness. I thought you'd sleep your life away."

The young man's face creased in a small frown as renewed fears awakened. The woman's face mirrored his perplexity, tilting her morning dawn-colored hair to the side. The bright indigo and yellow flora sundress she swore, brought out the tender shine in her gaze. Her grasp tightened around his.

He opened his mouth and a hacking cough erupted.

The woman stood from her chair and hurried grabbed a cub of ice water. "Drink." She placed the straw to his mouth and he latched on, greedily sucking the sweet nectarous juices. After he had his fill, she placed on the cub nearby for safe picking and retook her seat and his hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

The young man's face folded into a tighter, almost worrying scowl. An excruciating sharpness pricked at his head after his face tried to frown harder. He immediately relaxed his face and changed his eyes from her to the widely spaced room. There was a ceiling fan made of wood dangling above, a white three drawer nightstand by his side, his bed had white railings on the front and back, as if caged within and the sheets were as thin as toilet paper.

"Child?"

The young man blinked at her, the frown came back and his eyes squinted.

She started to speak again and still his expression didn't change. The woman caressed his palms with the tips of her fingers, concern lightly bringing wrinkles to her dark complexion. She freed one of her hands to lightly clutch his jaw. The young man's eyes half-lidded and sort more of that maternal touch, because with it came the scent of violets. That much he did remember and it caused his frown to vanish all together, now replaced with a small smile.

The woman's posture slacked of its previous tension as her thumb stroked over the young man's bandaged chin. "I'm very happy to see you awake," she whispered, sweet as honey. "What is your name?"

Sadness came this time. The young man lifted his hand tenderly to cover hers, lips pursed together.

"I," he coughed and tried again. "I don't . . . understand you," his voice mumbled in a regretful whisper.

It was her turn to frown thoughtfully. The woman was stunned as the realization abruptly seized her mind. This young man didn't speak her language, just as she didn't speak his. How, then how could she communicate with him? He was more lost then she imagined.

The hand on his face left to her cup her mouth as tears welled up in her bright lavender eyes. The poor thing. Grief as well as sorrow for his emptiness, caused her to stand up and sit on the edge of the bed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as if touching glass and carefully brought his face to her shoulder, stroking his hair.

"Please don't cry," the young man said, using his good arm to pat her back. "I'm sorry." He was rocked back and forth, unsure if she comprehended a single word he said. There was so much pity in the way she affectionately combed her slender fingers through his hair and kissed his neck.

The dark woman peeled away from him to look mournfully in his large purple eyes and suddenly broke into sobbing fit.

The young man softly shushed her and cupped her cheek. "Please," he tried once more. "I'm begging you not to cry."

His foreign words touched her heart. She didn't need to interpret his meaning, because the emotions in his eyes spoke valiantly of his concern for her. The woman pawed his cheek and kissed each one. A blush raced from the young man's neck to the bridge of his nose as he ducked his head sheepishly, chuckling.

"Thank you."

She touched his face again and again as if checking for some sign. His accent made no sense to her. Standing from his bedside, she allowed her hand to linger on his face until leaving his side and started to walk toward the door.

The young man's eyes widened. "Wait!" he held out his arms.

The woman whirled around with a bright smile, all white teeth gleaming against her dark brown skin. She motioned with her hand for the young man to stay. She pointed at the door and herself and then him and opened her palm, telling him to wait until she returned. He understood and nodded. With a larger smile, she left the room.

Minutes passed into a full hour. The young man nervously pinched at the loose treads on his blanket, staring out the glass-less window. Birds, red ones and blue would occasionally perch on the sill and warble a high pitched greeting. The young man, grateful for the break in silence, stared and wondered, confusion growing in broken bits.

No matter how hard he tried to think, nothing surfaced. Nothing. He lifted his hand and gazed at the plastic band branded across his wrist. The written language was jumbled. His examination continued as he glanced all over, wishing something in here would trigger a familiar thought process. Still, he came up with nothing.

The fears returned in giant leaps and bounds. Why was it so hard to remember? Why? This didn't make sense. A hot sting teased the back of his eyes and he quickly squeezed them shut to prevent the flow of tears. He was trying so hard to summon a memory but all that came was a blank darkness.

There was a knock on the door before the doorknob latch dropped and pushed open. Several people entered. The woman, the young man was thankful to see, and with her was a tall, thickly set man with pale skin and brown eyes wearing a long lab coat and behind him was a young, frail framed man with slanted lavender eyes and dark shoulder length hair, bearing a remarkable resemblance to the woman. He was wearing dark tan cargo shorts, and a white and red striped t-shirt.

At once the young man tried to sit up but the fellow in the lab coat shook his head, motioning for him to lay back down. The young man did as he was told with a curt nod.

The doctor approached with a micro-sized flash light, flicking it back and forth over the young man's eyes. The pupils reacted normally, he deduced with a nod and went about doing other bodily examinations. He held up his index and pointed to himself, then to the young man. The doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. He pointed at the patient to do the same.

When he did, he quickly stopped as a dull pain stabbed his sides. The doctor shook his head and wrote something down on his clipboard. Next he retrieved a syringe and promptly pricked it in the young man's arm. He stood, said something to the woman and the newcomer and left the room. Now alone, the woman gazed at her visitor and sighed, turning sad eyes at the young man in bed. She said something in that language again and the man nodded, gripping his hands together.

He approached and sat on the edge of the mattress, youthful lavender eyes, a shade darker than the woman's and offered a toothy smile.

"Hello, my name is Heba."

The young man blinked, stunned. He understood him! He couldn't believe it. This Heba person's accent wove in and out of English language with broken and spaced practice but it didn't matter. The young man understood enough to respond. A rush of gratification poured in his chest as he returned the same expression.

Heba grinned wider. "This is my mother, Desta. She cared for you when you were unconscious."

The young man smiled at her. "Thank you."

Heba turned to his mother and interpreted what was said. Desta giggled behind her hand and openly went into a slew of long sentences and gestures.

"She says, you scared her half to death. When you're feeling better, she promises to feed you much better food than what this horrid place has given you. What is your name? What tribe are you from?" Heba's gaze darkened. "And who were the devils responsibly for hurting you like this?"

The young man's face pinched into that familiar frown as if he didn't hear a single word. Subtle forlornness reflected on his face.

Heba assumed the stranger was going through the horrible scenes in his mind, because he could never imagine someone looking so helplessly dismal. The cowards to cause this person such pain and dare to flee, shall be caught and punished. When the stranger didn't reply, turning his face away and scowling, Heba took his chin between two fingers and pulled his face back so their eyes met.

"You mustn't feel ashamed," Heba bitterly said. "It was not your fault. Not yours at all. They were worthless, evil men who prey on the weak. They took advantage of you."

'_Is that—is that what happened? Was I attacked? Beaten?_' For some reason that didn't feel accurate. The young man shifted his face away from the vicious glare, not directed at him, but at the supposed enemies who'd caused this to him.

Shaking his head, the young man silently drew in a long breath and closed his eyes. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I can't remember."

"You're traumatized," Heba concluded on his own. "It's to be expected. You needn't try to think about it now. It's not important." He patted the stranger's knee. "You're safe and well and that's all that matters."

"No, no." The young man shook his head, frustration nipping at his patience. "I don't remember anything. My head, I'm trying, nothing's coming," he blabbered on and on, as the words spoken aloud confirmed his dreadful situation. "My name, oh god, I don't know." He slowly started to panic. His uninjured hand rose to tangle in his hair like jagged hooks. "Why can't I remember? Why can't I remember anything?!"

"Stop it, don't you hurt yourself!" Heba snarled, snatching the hand away. There were hundreds of loosened treads in the stranger's palm. Heba dusted them away and held his hand, lest he were to try such a thing again. "You must calm down. Try to relax. You may remember something if you're not so agitated."

Desta's accented concern reached out to Heba, shooting horrified question after question, gesturing wildly at the young man on the bed. Heba, knowing he had to remain calm, faced his mother and relayed the fears and worries the stranger was experience. Once again, her hand found her mouth and she couldn't bear to stare at the hopeless despair dashed across the young man's pale face.

She said something to her son. Whatever she said, he didn't agree with. Heba twisted his head around, mouth hard as he replied back in a tone stone firm. Desta returned the argument back with a sharper disposition to her poise, head held high and her chin jutted out. She said something else and turned on her heel, going out the door.

The stranger looked between them, worried. "What happened?"

Heba sighed, staring off after his mother's sudden departure. "She's worried for you. But what are we to do?" Heba mumbled more to himself then for the stranger's ears. When he returned his attention back to the patient, he found his pale face downcast into the gapping space between his legs. Heba shook his head, and tilted the stranger's face up again. "Keep your head up, man. We've all waited a long time to see you open your eyes. Don't keep this gift from us."

The stranger sniffled and timidly nodded. "Us?"

"Ah, yes. My family. We've all been here to see you." Though Heba omitted the part about his brother, father and uncle refusing to visit. "So, do you think you will regain your memory soon?" he decided to try a new approach.

The young man allowed Heba's monotone voice to wash over him and translate what was said. Sometimes Heba went back and forth between his native tongue and English without realizing it.

"I wish I could tell you. Everything's blank and foggy. It's just so jumbled. I can't even recall where I'm from or how I got here."

"Oh," Heba hummed. "One without a name can hardly be called a person, now can he?" He tapped his chin in thought, rummaging through his brain for a solution. "Do you have any favorite foods? What colors do you like? Did you hunt at your last tribe? Were you married?"

"I-I don't know that either. I really don't. God, I wish I did." Married, a tribe, his favorite colors and food? None of it. He didn't know anything. He closed his eyes, desperately journeying through the empty cavern of his mind. The vast endlessness, settled like a boulder in his stomach. Absolutely nothing came to. Sadly, he shook his head, chewing his bottom lip.

Heba reached over to squeeze his hand, presenting a sunny smile. "Do not fret, stranger. It's fine. Shall I give you a name then?"

The stranger smiled small-like. "I'd like that."

"Ok, umm." Heba twisted his lips to the side, tilting his head, swishing a large clump of his hair on his off his shoulder. "Wekesa?"

The stranger's face scrunched up.

"No? Ok, what about Yaw?"

Another ugly expression.

"Yes, you don't look like a Thursday baby. How's Paki?"

That one made him giggle.

"Not that one either? No, I don't think it fits your face. Gosh." Heba scratched his head, drawing a blank. This was tougher then it looked. How did his parents know to name him Heba and to name Atem that when they were born? This was one of the reasons why Heba hadn't married off just yet. If it were up to him, he'd just call the children by their personalities, like the loud one or the quiet one.

"It's alright," the stranger echoed out. "We don't have to think of one today."

"Like hell," Heba snorted. "We can't keep visiting without addressing you. _Hey you_ will get old." Heba pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, revealing an even row of bright pearly whites. "Oh I know!" He snapped his fingers, face suddenly wide and alight.

"What?"

"I'll call you Neo. I like that name."

"Neo?" The stranger debated the term in his head, going over it again and again, until he consented. "I like it too."

"Great, Neo you are and Neo you shall be." At least until they could learn more clues as to who he was and where he came from. For now, Heba was happy to see Neo was doing well. He stood after a few more minutes of talking. It was time to head home to report the news.

Neo's eyes were becoming heavy and the doctor had long since returned saying he would need his rest.

"Will you come back?" Neo asked, sleepily.

"Yes, I promise." Heba helped Neo settle into bed, tucking the sheets around his sides and made sure he knew how to summon the nurse.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Neo questioned, steadily edging closer to slumber. "I'm a stranger to you."

"Yes, well, I doubt I could live with myself knowing I had the opportunity to help a fellow brother," Heba said. Neo laid comfortably against his pillow, internally feeling at peace for once. Heba touched his cheek, inwardly marveling at the smooth texture and the urge to protect grew stronger. He would be the friend Neo needed to survive in this world. "We'll keep you safe, Neo. Hopefully we can figure out something together."

"Thank you."

Heba wouldn't let anything happen to him. That included defending Neo to his hot heated father, brother and uncle. After making sure the young man was resting, Heba brush aside some of his wilted blond banes before leaving. He found his mother outside near the Jeep, seatbelt fastened across her chest and a chiseled glare on her lovely face that could halt a rhino in the middle of a charge.

Their disagreement inside the one-story hospital. Dust flooded the grass-less terrain, rustling the loosened gravel. Heba retrieved a rubber band from his pocket to tie back his hair. His mother was very quiet. That scared him. His eyes darted to the side, he thought about it, then spoke.

"Mother, you know how they'll react to this."

"They'll not deny me," Desta fiercely declared suddenly, arms folded tight beneath her bosom. "They will not! I'll slap the ignorance off Aknamkanon's face!"

Heba hid his smile, as he turned the key in the ignition. "We have to think clearly. We never expected him to have lost his memory."

"The poor boy's spirit is what's lost, Heba," Desta sternly emphasized. "How will I live with myself knowing I didn't fight for him to stay? When the doctor releases him, he shall stay come live with us."

"Atem and Father will not like it."

"Your father and brother will have me to deal with. I do not fear them. I'll make sure the child is nurtured." Desta's ferocity lessened as memory of the young man's face developed in her mind. "Did you see his reaction? He has nothing to him. No memories, no family, no one."

"He has a name."

Desta blinked, a gasp slipping from her lips. "Oh? He remembered?"

"No," Heba winked. "I gave him one. He shall be Neo. For the time being at least."

"Neo," Desta tested the name on her tongue, and giggled. "Well done, son. It suits him."

Heba inwardly agreed. He put the car in drive and steered off the clinic's property and toward the darkly auburn dirt paths leading towards the Thika villages and namely the last one in the back, Zambia Ranch. There was a great deal of explaining that'd take place when they arrived. On top of dealing with his mother's stubbornness, the Bello family were going to have to handle convincing Heba not to allow Neo to stay. Fat chance of them changing their minds though. As far as the son and mother pair were concerned, their decisions were already made. Neo would stay and that was final.

* * *

"You have no right to make such a drastic decision without consulting us first!"

That was the first bellowed clash of words to counter Desta and Heba the following evening when they called for the entire Bello's family in the council hut. The night was pleasantly cool from the rains with gentle humid breezes swishing through the jarred windows. Shades of gold, bronze and brilliant yellows from mud cloth lamps bathe the expressions of each Bello's family member; dividing the family right down the middle of those who were for and those who were against the idea.

Everyone was assembled, including those married or soon to be married into the family. The founders of Zambia Ranch had arrived earlier that morning, both brothers seated on either end of the long mahogany table, arms clasped across their chest and faces chiseled in deeply grooved frowns. Charlize sat parallel to her husband with Seth on her left and Anzu to her right. Akefia sat next to his life, fingers lightly tracing circles on her palm to ease her aggravated state. Desta was stationed next to her husband with both Heba to her right and Yami on the far end with Seth. Atem refused to sit at all during this debate, heatedly pacing back and forth towards the back of the room, lavender eyes blazing and lips firmly pressed as tight as his fists.

"He has no idea who or what he is, Kaka," Heba tried to patiently argue, watching Atem's constant and dizzying pivots on his heels. "What are we to do? Simply abandon him there? Was it not you who said if he woke, he was my responsibility?"

Atem's neck snapped to the side so quickly, Heba flinched assuming it'd broken. "You're twenty summers, nearing your twenty first and already you know enough to care for a grown man when you know nothing about raising a child?" Atem stalked over, grey tunic flipping in his wake until he stopped by his brother's chair and flattened his palm on the table. "How many times must I say, I don't want strangers in my village? We can't give him a background check because he conveniently claims to have no memory of who he is or where he comes from? An obvious trap!"

"You weren't there to see the child's tangled misery!" Desta sharply inputted to her eldest son. "His spirit weeps for being lost in a frozen world, so empty of memories. No one here can know the pains of being abandoned and lonely like me. I know where he comes from. I know that suffering. I can't bear to think how he would feel if he were left alone."

"Which is why you hardly qualify as a reasonable defense for this man, Auntie," Seth gently scolded. "You're allowing your mind to cloud up with this self-related pity, instead of realizing this could be a trap to weave his way into our ranch. It's the biggest of the lands and the most profitable. Children litter the paths every day and more will be expected by the next harvest."

"Thank you! Finally someone speaks with sense!" Atem sarcastically growled.

Anzu audibly sighed, aloud summoning everyone's attention. "I dare say you both are being terribly harsh on this stranger. What harm can one man do to a village of nearly two hundred? I've said it before, should he prove to be a threat, we simply do away with him in a hurry." Her luminous blue eyes reflected an edgy tint to them, boldly challenging anyone to go against her idea.

This, of course, does little to faze Anzu's mother since it was a look inherited from herself. Charlize flipped a locket of her long red, green and brown beaded brunette hair with a delicate hands that never knew a day of labor.

"Should this discussion really be put into so much perspective? I've seen the lad myself, and he could hardly frighten a pea, let alone terrorize an entire village." Charlize cast a discreet wink at Desta, who visibly relaxed in her chair from the utter relief of having her sister-in-law on her side. "He'll not live here for free, naturally. When he's well enough, put him to work, make him herd the cattle, fetch water, and so forth. Until he's earned our trust, he needn't go near the children or our crops."

Yami cupped his palm under his chin, allowing his burgundy gaze to wander over everyone's faces before he added in. "If it's such a fuss, may I volunteer to be the man's guardian? If he were placed under constant watch, there'd be no need for worry. He'll be the responsibility of one." He winked at Heba. "Or two."

Heba smiled.

"I think not!" Atem fiercely distorted, new brazen anger now centered on his lover. "I won't allow it!"

"Why not?" said Yami.

Atem blanched, mouth winding harder and harder until he looked ready to chew through bark. "Why the hell would you even want to?"

Yami's eyebrow lifted. He leaned away from the table to match Atem's filthy rage with a light glare. "Weren't you the one saying you weren't comfortable with him being here? He's one man, as Ms. Charlize says. What harm could he be to us?" Yami had his arms folded over his chest and his lips pursed tightly together.

The stance reminded Atem of those times they'd debate over anything, big or small, and this would be Yami's bodily definition of having concluded he was going to do whatever he wanted despite his lover's wishes.

"I don't like it," Atem finally growled, giving his back to his face and his eyes glaring out at the night as if it were the reason for this monumental change about to take place.

"And your jealousy's unbecoming," Heba grumbled to himself, crossing his arms over the table surface. "Father, Uncle, what have you to say on this?"

Aknamkanon and Aknadin, whom have held their peace until now, shared a similar grim expression and without words, communicated through their eyes how they viewed this issue. No one, except the sons of Zambia whose bond went far beyond their years, could comprehend their way of reasoning. This gaze went on for several intense seconds before they turned to face the family they formed, viewing each set of eyes until landing on their wives.

Desta's mouth pulled between her teeth, limpid lavender eyes privately pleading for her husband's approval. Her petite, calloused fingers, scarred along the fingers when those men years ago had dragged her body across the ground and she tried so desperately to cling to roots, barbs and rocks, clasped one of Aknamkanon's own.

"You cannot do this to him," Desta said for his ears only.

"He may be a danger," he returned deep voice like a stone's drop in a river. "I saved you once. If he were to bring those brutes and savages to the village and I were not here. . ."

"So you will cast away a defenseless wanderer based on mere guesses?" Desta brought his enormous palm up and curved it to her face. The rough texture prickled her smooth cheeks. She tensed the tiniest bit when his thumb slid under her chin and squeezed. "You didn't do that to me. I could've been as much a danger to you but you gave me a chance. Do the same for him."

Aknamkanon stared down at the woman who's had his heart for over two decades, thinking of the hundreds and thousands of sacrifices she's done for this ranch and for her family. She could devour his soul and stomp on his heart with spiked heels if she wanted and he would forgive her without hesitation. She'd given him two handsome, brilliant courageous sons and a life full of glorious happiness.

How could he deny her?

With a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his feet, Aknamkanon turned to his younger brother and nodded.

Aknadin returned the gesture and leaned forward to relay their decision. "He shall be allowed to stay, based on the conditions met," his raspy, bass voice said. "He's to be watched at all times. He's not to be allowed near the children, the fields or orchards without supervision. He's not to go near the weapons and he will be given work, but nothing beyond what is normally employed to the men. As far as where he stays. . ." his voice trailed off.

And was proudly finished by Heba. "He can stay with me. I have the room and bedding. We can have it ready by the time he leaves the hospital!"

Yami beamed. "I'll help you make the preparations."

"So shall I," said Anzu, gripping Akefia's hand excitedly. "It'll be fun!"

"Love, you should rest," Akefia grumbled. "They won't have to listen to you complain all day about your swelled feet and you stumbling about. Let the men handle this and you focus on cooking."

Anzu properly smacked him on the back of the head for that. "Swine! God forbid, my sweet Bakura has that same pathetic way of thinking!"

Atem stared, open gapped and eyes narrowing thinner and thinner. "Have you gone lost your minds?!" He hollered, destroying whatever peace was settled. He met each one of those gazes, lingering his hurt more on Yami, his father and his mother. "This is a scheme and an obvious one at that. Why are you all so dead set on this? Mother, you especially, are letting your maternal need to nurture, mistake what he's truly capable of. My god, the man could be a danger! I'd rather he is left to wallow in whatever troubles he caused on himself and we go about our business!"

"No."

Atem blinked, and zeroed in on the one who openly defied him. "What did you say?"

Yami settled down in his chair and rested the point of his elbows on the table. "I said no. You're not being fair. As future chief, you should have the heart and intuition to week the possible good in everyone. Your fear of change divides what's logical and what isn't, Atem. Right now, you're coming off as an ignorant traditionalist he refuses to move on with the world." He stood from the table, and faced Atem's brilliant rage. "People like you miss out on opportunities because of your cowardly desire to stick to what you know. I say that's foolish."

"Foolish? Foolish?! You think me wanting to protect what's sacred, foolish? My father and uncle worked their fingers to the bone harvesting this rocky dirt until it bloomed with life. My grandmother's life was carved into every shred of prosperity gained and I value every bit of it!" Atem walked up to his fiancée's face, lips and eyes and chests without a breath of space. "I will kill before I allow that sacrifice to be wrecked simply because you and the rest of them, refuse to see passed what he may be. So don't tell me what foolishness is, Yami. What's foolish is your desire to go against me, for the sake of some fucking stranger! Are you that desperate for a friend? Is that it? You can't get along with anyone else here so you push yourself on this man in hopes he'll fill the void I couldn't?"

Silence, tense as ice blanketing a lake, hovered and gradually implanted itself in the room.

Yami stared up at Atem, his mouth jarred and face in shock from the cruel abuse; he was speechless. The hurtful claims and accusations crushed him from inside out and, in turn, provoked an angry retort to rise to his lips . . . one he held back and refused to say. How could he, how could he say such things? Despite the bitter expression on his love's face, Yami could see the hurt darkening it—the same hurt that he knew was mirrored on his own.

Defiance and anger quickly mixed and rose like a storm in Yami's dark eyes as he straightened his back and turned on his heel to leave before something else was said that would wedge a wide gap between him and Atem. He didn't expect that thickheaded, foolish, ignorant, dumb bastard to understand what he goes through every day when he wasn't around. The stares, the snickering, the conniving whispers of contempt behind his back because he'd been the first to supposedly seduce Atem into his bed.

Yami could reflect with this stranger because he knew what it was like to be alone. What was the harm in wanting to be there for him?

* * *

Neo tried countless times to conjure a small glimpse of his past but continued in fruitless despair. It was like pulling at a boundless rope with no end. He laid in bed another three days simply gazing at the sun come and go and quietly welcomed the company of the few birds that'd land on his window and sing. The doctor was a stern, hurrying man and the nurses were pleasant enough but Neo eagerly awaited each passing minute until he would see Desta and Heba again. He may not understand them but their smiles were warm and inviting.

They were the only memories he clung too. He hadn't seen them since yesterday when they returned to bring him news about him allowed to stay on their ranch. It was a gift that brought tears to his eyes. And still whenever he thought about the joyous way they went about describing how they'd go about doing what they could to ensure Neo's stay was a great one.

He didn't know how he could repay them but he would. Someone and someway.

_Knock! Knock!_

"Come in!" Neo sat up to support his back against the headboard, and failed to do a thing to fix his mangled, patted hair. It was a knotted ruin, spiked in ways then a cactus. He hated welcoming Heba and Desta in without looking his best, but it would have to be excused until he could get to grooming utensils.

However, instead of seeing Heba or Desta, it was someone new entering.

Neo's purple gaze widened a fraction bigger when he saw the kind smile of a pale skinned fellow with hair that complimented a sun flare. He was, in Neo's secret admiration, very striking. Tall, lithe muscularly like a runner and toned from head to his sandal feet. His eyes were polished a radiate gleam like the lambent sparkle of rubies beneath cool water. They were full of friendly charm and mischievousness that Neo couldn't resist returning the newcomer's contagious grin.

"Um, good morning," Neo tried for civility first after the person seemed content to smile and stare for two minutes.

The man approached, wearing a dark green sleeveless tunic and cream colored linen cargo pants, and took the chair stationed next to Neo's bed. He had a book in his hand. His fingers hid the title from Neo's prying eyes and when he glanced back up, the same smile and same gleeful expression was on the man's face.

Neo shifted uncomfortably, steadily trying to keep his smile planted. "How are you?"

No reply. But that visitor's smile did get bigger and brighter.

'_OK' _Neo declared himself officially freaked. Handsome or not, this man was starting to creep him out.

"So," Neo started, clapping his hands together, monotone voice breaking the awkward silence. "What's your name?"

The silence was deafening and as before, there was only a gleaming spark of a smile and an adorable expression. One would think this man had just found gold stored in his sock from how happily he was gazing at Neo's face.

Suddenly he leaned back and opened the book, flipping to the front page and held it out, brow concentrated in frown. After finding what he was looking for, he returned his piano smile to Neo and opened his mouth.

"My . . . n-n-name . . . is. . . Yami."

It was Neo's turn to stare and when he started he couldn't stop. He was grateful he stifled the shudder that raked his spine like talons. He could've swayed, the voice was so deep and smooth, like it was submerged beneath the voice. The young man's face flushed when he realized he was still staring and averted his gaze away, a shy smile suddenly blossoming over his boyish features.

Yami, puzzled, reopened the English book he borrow from Heba's bedroom and flipped through the pages, assuming he'd said the wrong thing. He'd thought his brother-in-law had told him that was how you introduced yourself. Maybe he didn't pronounce the words correctly. He found a new page, hummed to himself and nodded before snapping it shut.

"Yami," he said, expression dead serious. "I. . . Yami." He pointed to himself, then pointed at Neo. "You?"

Neo managed to rip himself from his minor delusional state and smiled, all teeth and all shine. "My name is Neo."

Yami beamed and quickly went through the book, looking for something. "F-f-friend, me?"

Neo retracted his body's reflex to quiver under the constant influence of that rumbling thunder and nodded. "Yes, I will be your friend."

Yami tilted his head.

Neo thought it was the cutest thing. He pointed at his chest. "Friend, me. You my friend?" He pointed at Yami.

The man lite up like a carnival and nodded. Neo chuckled and the other joined in the tiny merriment shared between new friends. Neo was glad. So far, he has yet to meet a single negative person from the Zambia Ranch village. He couldn't wait to visit the place and see who would welcome him.

For the rest of the day, he spent time speaking—trying to anyway—with Yami, correcting him at times on his English and Yami even offered to teach him a little of his native language. It was the start of a very welcomed friendship between the two. Every time they looked at each other, they sometimes shared a simultaneous sigh of relief, only known to themselves. Yami had someone he could finally speak too without glares. Neo was happy to spend time without someone who wanted to be there for him. There was a lot to gain and so little to lose.

* * *

**TBC: Neo is Yugi for those who are confused. Also I must regretfully inform you all that between July 6-19, 2013, I will be unable to update due to having to perform my annual training with my unit Yes lol I'm in the Army and duty calls. So please, if you would be so very kind as to tell me how you liked this chapter or not, I'd really appreciate it. It'd give me something to read while I'm gone ^_^. **


	5. Zambia Ranch

**Author's Rant:** Well, it's time to get back on schedule. I'm glad to be home and thanks to everyone who welcomed me back. Enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

**Zambia Ranch**

* * *

It has been weeks since Mokuba last saw his older brother at home. He'd received phone calls from Roland every day at seven in the evening—the usual time when Seto would be home to have dinner with Mokuba—and explain to the youngest Kaiba that the CEO wouldn't be making it home today due to problematic issues only he could handle. Mokuba tried to fed into the excuses as best he could, but found them becoming harder to accept.

Mokuba had been out of state working on the prototypes of the Kaiba Corporation's next big project on vocalized training duel desks that could train a duelist in strategic methods and proper knowledge of their monster cards, when he got word of the plane crash over Africa. Mokuba felt a brief sadness for the passengers and the mourning families when he saw the crumbled remains of the Delta Airline's jumbo jet in pieces on the ground. _'There was no way there were survivors. The damage rivals a high speed train's collision to a steel wall'_, he had thought. Watching the men in haz-mat suits and local law enforcement lift debris and push off large hunks of white metal to find new bodies, hadn't been what drew Mokuba to the television screen in his office.

The ten-year-old's eyes smoke grey eyes were round and dark as a forlorn moon without stars, when he caught sight of the plane's number displayed in the information bar. He couldn't believe it and refused to think it was true for the entire three hours he stared at the television and the news reporter explained how a storm had been the culprit to destroy the plane. That had been Yugi's flight; the one he was using to do his promotion expedition to Africa.

Mokuba's breathing had turned shallow, his skin felt clammy and his heart ached as if claws were snatching it away vein by vein. That had been Yugi's flight; his mind reeled on that singular fact for a long time. Nevertheless, how was that possible? Mokuba had just spoken to Yugi a day prior to when he was scheduled to leave. Yugi had promised to send gifts, he'd secretly promised to come back in time for Seto and Jordan's wedding.

How could he do that if he was . . . oh God.

The youngest Kaiba choked back a surprised sob and staggered. He couldn't believe it. Yugi had promised. Since they were small children, Yugi hadn't made a promise that he couldn't keep. Yugi had been the first and only friend to accept the Kaiba's at their lowest when they were in the orphanage. Yugi met the Kaibas one day while walking home from elementary school and saw the lonely brothers pushing each other on the swings. Yugi couldn't understand why the Kaiba's weren't playing with the other children, so he made it his civic duty to be their friend, despite Seto's long, dry explanation as to why he didn't want friends. Yugi stuck around anyway and eventually, Mokuba noticed how Seto would smile when he saw the pint-sized kid skipping to the orphanage to play.

Yugi brought more and more friends with him each time, until the Kaiba brothers were surrounded by kids. However, it was Yugi the Kaibas looked forward to seeing every day. He never failed them, no matter how the weather looked or how he was feeling. Yugi had wormed himself into the Kaiba's lives, becoming the sole friend Seto trusted and the kindhearted companion Mokuba could turn to when he couldn't speak to Seto.

_Now he was gone. . . _

Mokuba's hands cuffed around his upper biceps and rubbed up and down to dissolve the sudden gripping chill. Still in a state of disbelief, Mokuba had hurried to his desk phone and ordered a direct line to Kaiba HQ Head Office. If anyone could confirm the tiniest detail on anything, it was Seto. And Seto always, always, always answered Mokuba's phone calls . . . so when the secretary informed Mokuba that Seto wasn't accepting phones from anyone. . . it only proved what the youngest Kaiba feared.

Yugi really was gone.

"Alright," Mokuba quietly whispered into the phone. Roland apologized to the youngest Kaiba for the inconvenience and hung up the phone. Mokuba placed the phone on the table top and stared at the two plates of untouched Cesar salad, roasted potatoes, gravy-smothered roast and seasoned string beans. It was going to be another uneventful night in the mansion.

He hadn't had much of an appetite anyway. Moreover, he was worried for Seto. There were times when Seto would be gone for days in the office and forget to eat meals or get any sleep. It's been several weeks since Yugi's death and still, Seto wouldn't accept it. Mokuba had learned from Jordan that he'd found Seto's office in total disarray, and his desk was flooded with every printed newspaper and recording, detailing the plane crash. Every time the news spoke of the plane crash, Seto's eyes were glued to the screen as if it held him captive.

Mokuba decided that his only connected source to Seto would be calling Jordan. His future brother-in-law was equally worried for his fiancée's welfare, but not even he was able to coax his lover out of the office. Jordan would visit and force his way inside, but wound up ignored, or threated with bodily harm to get out.

Mokuba reached for the phone, dialed Jordan's cell number, and pressed it to his ear.

Two rings later, Mokuba gave a watery smile when Jordan's brass deep voice answers the phone. "Hi, Jordan, sorry I woke you, I know it's late."

Jordan's deep, whimsical chuckles hugged Mokuba's eardrums. "_You know it could be three o'clock in the morning and I still have time for you Lil' Mokie. Talk to me kiddo. What can I do for you?"_

"Um." Mokuba gnawed at his bottom lip as his right hand played with the hem of his yellow and black plaid pajama shirt. "H-have you talked to Seto today? He hasn't shown up for dinner again."

"_Seto's still in the office then,"_ Jordan concluded what the youngest Kaiba already theorized. The accountant audibly signed and Mokuba imagined he was probably rubbing the space between his eyes in frustration. _"I went by the office earlier for lunch, but he wasn't allowing anyone inside. Roland told me he'd fired seven employees on a whim because none of them were giving adequate results on the plane crash."_

Mokuba deflated in his seat. "Do you think he'll come home today?"

Jordan paused, and then said in an honest, sympathetic tone. _"I'd be lying if I told you yes, Mokuba. Yugi's death hit him hard. And he's in a state of denial. When I mentioned it last week, he threatened to call off the wedding if I brought up anymore of my _spurious opinions_, as he put it." _

"That's not fair!" Mokuba angrily broke into a whimper over the receiver. "I'm hurting too! Yugi wasn't just his friend; he was mine too. Why, why can't he just. . ." he swallowed back the sour lump in his throat.

"_Mokie . . . don't be upset with him. You know besides you, Yugi was the only one he allowed in his icy cage,"_ Jordan softly reasoned. "_Hell, even I'm still trying to fight my way in. Losing Yugi, It just messed up his mind . . . you know Seto won't accept anyone he let in his life just leave."_

"But what will it take for him to see that Yugi's gone!" Saying the words aloud hurt as much as the first day Mokuba had learned of Yugi's accident. It reopened a fresh wound and the emotions bleed profusely from his grey eyes. "I miss him too! I miss him every day! I wanna believe he's still alive, but Jordan, you seen the plane crash. You saw it! No one could've survived that. No one!"

Jordan's assuring tone did not waver. He let his words act as the catalyze for Mokuba from walking down the same broken path as his older brother. In truth, it was taking bits of Jordan's resolve every moment passed with the Kaiba brother's demeanors crumbling before his eyes. Seto was pushing the few loved ones he had as far as he could. Mokuba was clinging to whoever would offer him comfort in Seto's absence. Jordan had been stunned to hear of Yugi's death and his fears of the backlash to follow were confirming themselves each day that went back with that bubbly smile.

Some shuffling on the phone alerted Mokuba to Jordan pushing the sheets off his body. The child sniffled, listening and waiting for Jordan to finish what he was doing.

"_You there, Mokie?"_

"Yes," Mokuba said in a small voice. "What are you doing?"

"_Putting on some clothes."_ More shuffle and rustles. "_You up for some company tonight?"_

Mokuba nodded over the phone as large tears finally leaked from the corner of his eyes. "Please?"

"_Alright, I'll be there in a few. You want to stay on the phone with me until I get there?" _

"Please," Mokuba repeated just as soft and childlike. Mokuba could hear Jordan's smile over the phone when he started talking to him and gradually easing the child's mind away from his troubles.

For now, if he couldn't help one Kaiba, Jordan would be able to do something for the other. The dark skinned accountant's mind was already reeling in a million directions, searching for ideas and anything at all to help his fiancée work through this. He loved Seto to death, so he needed to act like the proper lover and continue to offer his support as best he could.

* * *

Jordan continued to do just that for the next few weeks, visiting Mokuba as often as he could to take up the disappearance of Seto's company and going by the HQ office to check in on Seto. One night, Jordan arrived carrying two to-go plates from O'Charley's, each plate holding one of Seto's favorite dishes within. Perhaps the accountant could attempt to get the CEO to nibble on either one. Jordan was relieved to hear that Seto had eaten a small bit but it wouldn't do. Energy bars, coffee and water would only carry a grown man so far. Jordan hadn't seen the CEO this time for two full weeks and he demanded entrance into the office or the secretary was going to have more than Seto's attitude to deal with.

The brunette woman chewed her bottom lip nervously, large blue eyes pleading for her employer's fiancée to reconsider his offer. Jordan's dark gazed pierced the woman's heart like a spear. She gulped and quickly pressed in the necessary keys to unlock the office door. Jordan nodded his thanks and walked in with his head held high, shoulders squared and stride confident. He was wearing a sea-blue Hugo Boss suit with a crimson red handkerchief peeking from the breast pocket and a matching necktie. His cinnamon brown hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a black silk ribbon with a few strands framing his oval face.

The large, spacious office was pitch dark. The room illuminated briefly as Jordan strode in and then it was thrown into darkness again when the door clicked shut, returning to the scant lighting from the borrowed cobalt lights of the main computer. Jordan eyes calmly took in the environment's familiar disorder of broken vases, torn documents and shattered artwork. This place hasn't been cleaned in ages. His fingers squeezed around the plastic handle of the meal holder. This was beyond his lover's personality. Seto based his entire purpose on cleanliness and organization.

Seto was here, in a new suit, one twice as expensive as Jordan's; a pure white Saville Row suit, jet-black dress shirt and white tie. His slender silhouette and broad shoulders vibrated from the overwhelming speed of his fingers dancing across the keyboard. His rich blue eyes never left the screen to acknowledge Jordan's company.

"Lights, dim." The automatic lighting system answered to Jordan's orders, and the office was instantly basked in a soft gold glow. Jordan carefully approached after a few moments of waiting to see if Seto would respond to the sudden change.

Nothing happened.

Jordan sighed. Yet another long night of dealing with his lover's stiff silence. He placed the food on one of the couches aligning the walls and straightened his back.

"Seto, it's been a long day," Jordan softly said. "Why don't you join me for dinner?"

No reply.

"Roland's caught me up on the company's progression and comparison from last year's quarterly review. You're slipping by gradual percentages," Jordan smoothly lied, hoping the incorrect information would coax even the tiniest emotion, anger or anything from Seto's lips.

Still, Jordan was met with the same kind of response. Silence.

Jordan's eyes hardened. "Seto!"

Nothing.

"Damn it, you stubborn bastard!" Jordan stalked over to the desk and slammed his palms down hard, foolishly uncaring the shattered newspapers neatly organized on the desk and causing mugs of cold coffee to spill on the floor. "Seto, it's been weeks, you have to move on from this! You're neglecting Mokura, he's worried sick about you and so am I. No matter how much you want to go about scouring the depths of hell for his body, face facts. Be the practical man we love and understand. . ." Jordan's voice softened towards the end. "Yugi's gone. No kind of research or determination will bring him back."

Jordan gazed hard at the back of the tall computer screen and saw red when Seto's fingers never let up off the speed. If anything, they seemed to go faster. Jordan couldn't see his lover's face and imagined to be as hard as diamond, set in a stoic, blank expression. Jordan stood from the front and walked around the computer. He'd had enough. So help him, if he had to drag Seto from the computer he would.

Jordan circled around and his hand grabbed the leather chair's top and forced it around. Seto didn't fight it when his chair was turned.

A startled gasp escaped Jordan's lips at what he saw.

Jordan took in his handsome lover's face, drinking in his glorious feathers but the condition of those beautiful lines was distorted. He was stunned at the protruding sharpness in Seto's cheekbones, the harsh shadowy lines underlining his bone structure. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious beneath the expensive suit that Seto had lost weight. It didn't fit the way it should. Dark circles smudged under his icy blue eyes were lacked the prideful chill and confidence. The change broke Jordan's heart.

However, not as much so as the way Seto's bottom lip looked torn with bite marks and the old faded streaks of tears quietly fell from his eyes. This tall, strong man had silently has been tearing down like a king's castle to its enemies. It pained Jordan to his core to see his lover reduced to this.

"Oh Seto." Jordan leaned in, wrapped his arms around Seto's shoulders, and held him to his chest. Seto didn't move, but his rapid heartbeat spoke loud and clear. This hurt was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life. Jordan was at a loss. How on earth would he help his new family get through this pain?

* * *

"Is. . . It . . . . Good?"

Neo chuckled behind his hand at Yami's third attempt at asking Neo's opinion on the newest dish brought today. That's how they spent many of their days. Yami loyally visited Neo's room every single day with Heba's English book tucked under his armpit and something, be it food or clothes or a toy, for Neo to examine.

Neo especially enjoyed the new kinds of fruits brought from the farmlands on Zambia Ranch. Neo learned so much about the lands, its animals, the people and how the head family operated it. He felt like he was a witness to the farm's works. Heba vividly described everything in beautiful details and Yami happily proved his words by bringing evidence of their labor.

Neo has tried all sorts of meals, most of them neatly wrapped in colored clothes and kept warm. Desta cooked the dishes and another woman named Anzu, Neo learned. She wasn't the only one. Neo learned about all the workers, children and family members of Zambia Ranch through Yami's limited rambles and Heba's translations.

As the weeks passed, Neo healed with mild tenderness in his limbs and chest. It was as the time passed that he began to worry about what he was supposed to do next. He had no family or friends outside the Bello Family. They had taken such good care of him, but he felt like he was leeching off their kindness.

"Neo?"

The young man jumped a little and turned a plastered smile at Yami's worried expression.

"I'm fine," Neo assured, gripping his spoon a little stronger. "Yes, it delicious." The plate settled between Neo's thighs was a dish Yami called Acarajé made from peeled black-eyed peas formed into a ball and then deep-fried in palm oil. The texture was thick, bright orange and soft on the outside. The sizable fluff was filled with spicy pastes made from shrimp, ground cashews, palm oil, minced hot peppers and diced green tomatoes. It had an oily base that seemed to slim the flavors on Neo's tongue that he found uniquely delicious, though the oily part he wish wasn't so heavy.

He did like it, but his favorite was a Chicken Yassa dish Desta made for him last week. It was seasoned with all kinds of herbs and spices grown right on the farm. Yami had a hand with cooking this particular meal when he learned how much Neo enjoyed the first batch and promised to fix it whenever the young man wanted it. He prepared it with caramelized white and red onions, black oils and lemon juice, marinated chicken chunks, slices of red peppers, and steamed balls of white, yellow or brown rice.

Neo jolted to the soft swish of pages being flipped. He turned wide purple eyes at the fierceness of Yami's fingers scouring through the pages as if the one before the last offended him more. His index found what he was looking for and smacked it in the middle, narrow eyes studying it before he nodded.

"What's . . . wr-oung—oh, wrong?" He grinned sheepishly and tried again. "What's wrong, Neo?"

Neo smiled. Yami's English was getting better. "Nothing, I'm just worried about where I'm supposed to go from here."

"Go from here?" Yami went to the book again because Neo was saying too many words at once for him to comprehend. "Stay with us."

"Oh no, I couldn't! You've already done so much for me, with the hospital, visiting, giving me gifts and this wonderful food. I can't ask for more."

"Then where?" asked Yami.

"I. . . I don't know. I'll think of something."

"I want you with us."

Neo reached out for Yami's hand and the older man gladly gave it to him. "I wanna stay with you guys too, but I don't think it would be fair to you."

"You needn't think too hard, my friend. You shall stay with us."

Both men faced the doorway with Heba staying in the doorway wearing a thin green wife beater and dark brown cargos with tan sandals. His hair was fixed in a ponytail and split into three thick plaits tied with rubber bands.

Neo was the first to collect his thoughts just after realizing what Heba had said. "You've already done so much for me—"

"And we shall continue to do so."

"But why?"

Heba shrugged. "I like you." He winked and fully pushed the door open.

Yami smiled when the opening widened to reveal the extra company hiding behind Heba's legs. He stood up right away and kneeled to the ground with his arms open. He spoke fluently in his native language to the surprise guest with brilliant white hair, sharp brown doe eyes and a round Buddha belly protruding through his long blue and tan flora tunic.

"Anzu wanted him to see the stranger," Heba explained with a shrug at Yami's quiet question. "He wouldn't stop crying either. I had to bring him along."

Bakura curiously peeked between Heba's legs, stubby fingers balled and mouth set in a thin line as he looked from Yami's smiling face and to the new person sitting in the bed. The toddler pouted and shook his head. He pointed at Neo and frowned.

Yami followed the pointed digit and chuckled. "He won't hurt you, little one," he assured Bakura.

Bakura didn't believe a word of that. "Go," he ordered his older cousin. Bakura pushed Heba to walk, using his cousin as a shield between himself and the stranger.

"Brat," Heba mused teasingly as he sidestepped to remove himself from Bakura's grasp only to be scolded loudly by the protesting child for destroying his hiding place.

Bakura smacked Heba's knees with his fists and shouted, "Mbaya kijana*!"

Heba gasped. Yami laughed out, shaking his head. Heba scowled. "Where did he learn to say that?"

Yami shrugged.

"What did he say?" Neo questioned, smiling at the commotion.

"Something he better not say again. Little devil child." Heba tugged a piece of Bakura's long white hair which his mother Anzu braided off his face and tied up. The little babe shouted and started to tear up. He immediately made a beeline for Yami with his fists balled up over his eyes to plug the tears.

Yami picked him up and started to rock him from side to side, whispering peaceful words in his ears.

Bakura whimpered and pointed at his hair. "Heba maana*."

"Aw," Yami cooened and patted the tender portion Bakura rubbed.

"Kuharibiwa kitwana*." Heba rolled his eyes at the display. "Anyway, it's already been decided weeks ago, Neo. You're to stay with me until you regain your memory or even longer if you prefer. And!" Heba cut off when Neo opened his mouth to protest. "You'll have to find work around the ranch to cover your expenses. Whatever we find suitable for you until you get your strength back." Heba sat on the edge of Neo's bed, eyes bright. "We fought for you to stay with us. Don't let our efforts be for naught. Yami has too. He especially wanted you to stay."

Yami's head snapped up when he heard his name spoken. "What did you say to him?"

"That you wanted him to stay just as bad as me and mother."

"Don't say it that way—_oomph_!"

Bakura decided right then to smash his hands on Yami's face and squeeze his cheeks together until he was sporting fish lips. Bakura made kissy faces and giggled when Yami nuzzled the under plump of his jaw.

Neo chuckeld behind his hand, catching Bakura's curious eye again. This time the toddler was feeling a little more adventurous being in Yami's arms and tugged until Yami walked over and took a seat on the end of Neo's bed. Bakura owlishly blinked at Neo, then blinked at Yami. A frown pinched his chubby features.

Bakura pointed down at Neo. "Ambaye kwamba*?" he demanded.

Yami curled Bakura's rude finger away from Neo's forehead. "Yeye ni rafiki*."

"Oh." Bakura seemed temporarily satisfied with that answer until he heard Neo's quiet laughter. "Mbaya kijana*!"

"Hey!" Heba intervened loudly. Bakura pouted at him and hid his face in Yami's neck. Heba shook his fist warningly at his little cousin. The child peeked out and stuck out his tongue.

Heba snorted. "Despite the rowdy children, and occasion tempers, Zambia's Ranch is a wondrous place to live, Neo." Heba continued, regaining Neo's attention. He spoke in hinted seriousness and took the opposite of Neo's bed, close enough to grasp his hand. "You must reconsider. My mother demands your company there. My cousin, Yami and myself, we all want you to experience life on Zambia."

Neo's shoulders slumped a little. "Not everyone wants me there." Heba's hesitate response and shifty eyes confirmed it. "You told me once you had a brother, your father, uncle and another cousin. You don't talk about them often."

"That's because they're not worth mentioning. Don't you worry yourself about them. You're under my care, as well as Yami's. We'll make sure you're comfortable."

"But, you—you've done so much for me already," Neo's voice trailed away to a distant moment where his mind was arguing back and forth with what was right and wrong. Indeed he did want to come to become familiar with the Bello Family's way of life. Since day one, they've been there for him. Now, they ask that he come and join them like he was one of their own.

Heba's index finger curled under Neo's chin and lifted his face to see those fulgid purple eyes as glossy as a pool beneath a sunset. "What have I said before about taking your eyes away from us? I like looking at them. Mother does too. You should never keep such a gift all to yourself."

Neo's blush flared across his nose. He cleared his throat before turning to see Yami's expression mixed between curiousity and questioning. Yami too has been like a wall of support since he started visiting Neo as well. He wanted his company. Some, if not all, of the Bello's family wanted him to come and live at the ranch. Their kindness, offer of hospititality and boutiful sweetness was so overwhelming to Neo's heart, he felt it swelling five sizes too big in his chest.

At last, he gave his consent with a tiny nod. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered to Yami and turned to face Heba. "I mean it. Please, tell me everything I can do to help carry my weight. I refuse to be treated any diffferently then anyone else. I'll do whatever you ask without question."

Heba's smile unzipped across his face, all shiny white teeth and no lips. "That's what I wanna hear. You'll do well amongst my people, my brother." Heba nodded at Yami and translated the entire conversation to his eager brother-in-law.

Yami's expression mimiced Heba's in which he too was smiling with a shine of cheer in his eyes. He spoke quickly to Heba and the brunet whirled around with a chuckle in his voice.

"Yami's excited that you want to come live with us. He says if you're looking for work, why not share the load with him? He does more than his fair share around the ranch and could use a helper."

Neo tilted his head. "He wouldn't mind me helping?"

"I'm sure he wouldn't ask if he didn't."

"What if I mess up?"

"Like any other man on his first try?" Heba let out a a deep chested laugh. "Of course you'll mess up, but so what if you do? You'll try again and again until you get it right. Quit looking for excuses to piss me off." He waved off and pushed to his feet. "The doctor says you'll be well enough to leave tomorrow. We'll be here bright and early to get you ready for the trip to Thika."

"You're leaving?"

"Aye, before this brat pisses me off even more."

As if knowing, and he probably did know, that he was now the topic of discussion, Bakura lifted his face from Yami's neck and tilted his head over at Neo. After a seemingly endless bout of staring with narrow brown eyes, Neo squirmed until Yami placed him on the bed directly in the center of Neo's gapped legs. His thumb was stuck in his mouth, his frown still as tight as a stretched rubber band.

"What the hell is he up too?" Heba hissed at Yami.

Yami shrugged. Bakura's actions were unpredictable. No one could ever tell where the little toddler was going with his antics and just let him do as he pleased.

The child simply stared at Neo. Therefore, Neo did the same. Yami cleared his throat beside the pair. Neo turned his gaze to Yami. Bakura secretly took a tentative step toward the stranger. Neo turned back to the weird child and Bakura took another step. "Um." Neo didn't know what to do about this child. His wide-eyed staring was unnerving him.

The child took a last step forward, watching the stranger carefully. He stood between Neo's thighs and stared up at him, before placing a hand on one and quickly snatching it away. Neo watched with a raised eyebrow._ This child was a strange one._

"Would you like to sit?"

Bakura looked at Heba expentantly. Heba translated and caught himself towards the end when he realized he'd been used by a child.

Bakura took the invitation and plomped down right there, thumb still in his mouth and his other hand busily rubbing over the cottony sheets. He was content with life it seemed. Neo rested his hand on the roundest part of Bakura's belly and shifted around to get more comfortable.

Heba and Yami sat there stunned to silence. Bakura didn't take take to newcomers this well, this soon and he most certainly never ever got snug and relaxed in their prescene. It was even trying for Akefia to get his son to interact with him without recieving a bite or kick to the shin. Yami and Heba shared a knowing look at one another and quietly came to the same conclusion of knowing that having Neo come with them was the best idea. They couldn't wait to get him to the ranch.

* * *

Tomorrow couldn't get here fast enough for Neo. By sunrise, he was already dressed in a waist long cream tunic with forest green trimmings around the hem of the v-neck and sleeves. His dark grey cargo pants had to be rolled up and tied around his ankles because Heba's legs were two lengths longer then Neo's own. They had to let him borrow his clothes until they went shopping for the man's own attire. Neo didn't mind the gesture at all. Afterall, who was he to be picky about any type of offering given to him by this beautiful family.

There was nothing for him to pack. All he had was his new name and the clothes on his back. Neo left the hospital room without a backward glances when Yami came to retrieve him a couple of hours later. Underneath his arm was the English book and another one he had held out for Neo. It was a book on their native language, translating it from English to Swahilli.

"Neo found the gift endearing. "So I can learn your language too," he said, smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Yami."

Yami beamed, eyes curled above his cheeks. "You're welcome." His chest expanded with pride. He placed his hand on the small space on Neo's back and led him down the straight pathway to the Jeep waiting for them outside. Heba was in the driver's seat wearing black sunglasses and a smug grin on his face.

"All set for a new life?" He happily called aloud.

Neo laughed along with him. "As ready as as I'll ever be."

"You better!" His robust laughter wrung a big smile from Neo. He was glad for Heba's enthusiam. It helped with cooping with the major step to a new life.

Yami's hand suddenly squeezed on Neo's shoulder and he automatically reached up to squeeze it back. Yami's company was a blessing as well. Neo knew he would need them both to adjust to this new world. Without a moment more of waiting Neo and Yami gathered in the dusty Jeep, pulled on their seatbelts and pulled off down the gravel and sandy path leading straight to Thika Village.

The journey was a comfortable quiet one, one which Neo used to take in the everlasting lands opening up to him as they traveled deeper into the African plains. The weather was reflective and shiny, like a sun's glare bouncing off polished gold. Everywhere Neo glanced, he saw trees as thin as skeletons and some with trunks as thick as buildings. Winds picked up, often stirring a cloud of caremal colored sand in the air. There were so many surprises and beauty to this place. No matter where Neo gaze, he spotted something newer and more uniquely grand then the last. There was always a new kind of animal raising its head to examine the loudly approaching vehicle and Neo's face would be plasted flat against the window until the view of the beast vanished.

Africa was a breathing ecosystem that florished in places and died in others. Some areas were so lush with greenery it could take centuries to navigate through it all. And then there were portions of land where not a shred of grass could be spotted on the cracked, barren earth. Not once had Neo looked away from the windows. If he had, God knows he would've missed something.

The very instant they entered into Zambia Ranch's territory, Neo was stunned at the marvelous beauty it posessed. It was large, open and vast. The road they drived on suddenly became flanked on both sides by acres of perfectly lined fruit trees and crops of corn, tobacco plants, and other variety of vegetation. Ladders were perched against the trees, each with a pair of men either holding it or climbed up to the top to harvet a basket full of fruit. Neo's smile nearly split his face in half. He couldn't stop the overwhelming amazement shining on his face. This place was wild and yet tamed. The further in they went, the more open it became.

Next in the line of glory was the sudden disappearance of plantlife and the expansion of animals comfortably secured behind a six foot tall wooden fence. Massive cattle with long horns and wide grits lazily grazed in the fields. Horses, muscular strong and wild, roamed in herds across the plains, kicking up heaps of dust in their wake. On one side were tall birds with black oily feathers and incredibly long, pink necks pecking at the grounds with gigantic white rimmed feathers.

The animals, like the orchards and fields, eventually disappeared when the Jeep pulled into a narrower road that dipped down a reclining hill into a sort of bowl shaped valley. Huts of all shapes and sizes started to appear and with them, the people who lived within; lots of people who carried the same wide nose, cat eye and high cheek bone features as Yami and Heba. Their hairs were kept in neatly plaited braids, some were dreads and others were beaded in a raindow of colors.

All eyes seemed to be centered on the Jeep carrying the new person within. It was the first time Neo felt subconsciously aware of his difference in skin tone and features and he slowly dipped down below the window.

"You ok?"

Neo forced a smile on his face to ease Yami's concern. "I'm fine." He decided to pull out his own book and flipped through the pages until finding what he was looking for. "Mimi nina faini, Yami*."

Yami's mouth opened and closed and set in a thin grin. He reached in the backseat to gently pat Neo's knee before turning around to face the window.

Neo releashed his hidden worry out in a soft sigh. He hadn't thought about what the other villagers would think of him. His only focus had been on the Bello Family's reaction, but how could he forget that he would assuredly have to deal with the smaller ranked people as well?

The Jeep soon came to a skitting stop before the largest built hut in the village. Neo peeked out the window to see a line of dark skinned people, some with tones lighter then the villagers, standing outside the hut. There were smiles and there were frowns, but there was one in particular that unnerved Neo above them all.

It was from the man in the center wearing a sleeve black vest with a white undershirt and dove grey cargo slacks and a white bandana tied around his brow. Neo immediately thought of a rebellious villain, someone of high in caliber who threw authority around the way a bull thrashed before charging his enemy. He stood straight with his long, muscular legs spread shoulder width apart. His arms were folded across his chest, the muscles in each arm looking as thick as chopped lumber.

Neo met the man's gaze head on and almost cowered underneath the felocity of danger boiling around the lavender color.

The young man jumped out of his skin when Yami opened the door. Neo nearly went tumbling out. He collected himself and saw Yami's outstretched hand. Neo nervously took it and let himself be pulled out into the scathing heat.

There was more anger, more darkness enveloping the man's eyes when Neo looked at him again and he couldn't help but be pulled into the heated glare. The magnetic pull of fear he created in Neo's body seemed to demand he be gazed upon with respect and submission.

Yami wrapped his arm protectively around Neo's shoulders and didn't think much about when he tugged him close to his side. Neo welcomed the physical contact. He would need it to get through these introductions.

* * *

_Mbaya kijana= Bad boy!_

_Heba maana= Mean Heba or Heba mean._

_Ambaye kwamba= Who that? _

_Kuharibiwa kitwana= Spoiled brat or scamp. _

_Mimi nina faini, Yami= I'm fine, Yami. _


	6. Introductions

**Author's Rant:** Thank you, so, so, so very much for your participation guys. Please excuse mistakes until I correct them later. Enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

**Introductions**

* * *

"Why would you wait weeks after it's happened to tell me?"

Vivian was livid. It took a while for her to believe what Joey was trying to say in the subtlest way he could about Yugi's death. He was still trying to tell her everything, but Vivian being Vivian just refused to listen to reason. She's always been a stubborn one to handle. Yugi would often comment on it and earn a proper smack to the head for ever implying how thick headed she was. This had been one of those moments when she'd arrived to Kaiba's mansion after being picked up from the airport by Joey.

She was in the states on leave for the next two months. Her first mission had been to get all her friends together and celebrate her homecoming. However, this was anything but a joyous occasion. Instead of being greeted with the warm, cozy and hospitably atmosphere that'd been her second home since leaving Japan, she was welcomed with despair, anguish and a dark fact that she would deny until the day she died.

"He's not dead, Yugi can't be dead! I just spoke to him before I left for South America!" she shouted and continued to shout incoherently as large tears broke from her eyes.

"It wasn't easy for any of us to come to grips with it either, Viv'." Joey tried once again to be the reasoning one since Seto was lost in his own mourning. "We're still hurting. We can't even give him a proper funeral—"

"Don't say that," she snapped viciously, gripping the front of her chest. "Don't talk like you know he's dead. Do we have a body? No. Did the police confirm it? No. So quit implying all this shit about him being dead, and funerals and fucking being hurt, because it's pointless!"

"Get a fuckin' grip, Vivian!" Joey snapped back. "You think we wanna sit here and keep saying he's gone? Face reality for what it is! I don't wanna go around sayin' my bud's gone for good, but we gotta accept it!"

Vivian would burst hell wide open before she admitted to her heart's developing fears. Her emotions were fluctuating from one end of the spectrum and into the next. This wasn't normal. People don't die, not the ones she cared for. That kind of stuff happened to other people. For it to happen to Yugi, her overachieving apprentice, was beyond plausible. She'd watched Yugi grow since he was in high school, always the inquisitive type, asking questions about medicine, demanding to be tutored in his weakest subjects and never giving up when hope looked bleak for his future.

The red and grey short sleeve t-shirt she wore was soaked around the collar with tears; tears for an imaginary nightmare that would never exist. Dead, of course he wasn't. Yugi was her shining star; he'd been the first friend to welcome her into the states, when few others hadn't wanted to assist a foreigner. She had no money, no liable resources, a poor family and very little to her name. That hadn't mattered to him. Yugi gave her the clothes off his back and more and she repaid him with the only he ever asked for.

_Friendship._

If that was the only thing he wanted, why would he die and leave her with so much of it left over?

Her eyes glared venomously as she chewed on her bottom lip until it burnished a deep red. "He was as much as my friend as yours, Seto!" she stalked over to the silently brooding CEO, where he sat quiet on the couch, face buried his hands, never having met her face since she arrived. Her slender shadow hovered over him like a void. "You think this is something I wanted to hear after being gone for half the fucking year?" she stomped her foot on the ground over and over. "You should've told me sooner. Damn it, you should've told me!"

Joey raised his hands. "Hey lay off him, will ya? It was hardest on him more than any of us."

"You," Vivian whipped her head around to the other occupant responsible for inflicting this emotional pain, "you're no better than he is! So selfish! Yugi meant as much to me as he did you and now . . . now. . ." This pain was too consuming, decaying her soul. Vivian's body started to tremble, her hands shook and the world became a hazy mix of colors. Yet, she felt anything but the meaning behind those colors because her true world was dull and grey.

"Oh God, Joey. . ." Vivian sat on the cough, struggling to breathe with her mind going numb. "I can't believe you're telling me this! Yugi isn't dead! He isn't dead! He isn't fucking dead!" _Then why wasn't he coming down the hall to scream surprise? Why hadn't he been the one to greet her with Joey at the airport? Where was he now that was more important than being here for the reunion? _If he was dead . . . that could explain everything.

"No," she wailed, knees fidgeting under her elbows. "Joey, no, no, no. Why would he—Yugi can't be dead. He told me he'd see me when I got back. He told me, he promised, he promised me, Joey!" The damaging agony left her heart wide open and raw to the cold truth. There was no way, no way her spirit could ever recover from this.

Joey propped down on the center of the couch and draped his arm around her shoulder. Seto leaned back against the couch cushion, draping his arm over his eyes. Joey saw the deep, heart wrenching effects Yugi's death was causing his friends. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly at the sour lump in his throat. It was hard, being as strong as he could to help them through this, when in secret all he wanted to do was curl up in a corner and cry too.

"Why. . ."

Joey glanced over at Seto. The wet streaks escaping from beneath his eyes could melt the coldest hearts.

"Why does it hurt this much?" was Seto's husky whisper. "Is this what friendship does when it's stolen away? Cause this much agony?"

Joey stared distantly at the floor, the lavished décor of the Kaiba mansion and all the magnificent of the universe it possessed within its walls. He didn't realize he'd been looking for an answer until he heard a speck on his lap and looked down to see several droplets dissolving into his jeans.

Tears, tears from his own eyes. Joey touched the wet sadness and sighed. "I wish I knew," he said from between his friends. This wound cut too deep for them all.

"Yugi!" Vivian screamed like a tormented slave to her emotions, insides twisted and churned in knots. "It hurts," she sobbed and hiccupped. "Ow, it hurts so much Joey. I need him—I need him here!"

"Shhh," Joey coaxed her head onto his lap and stroked her black hair buns. Seto bumped Joey's arm as he eased up to his feet, white blazer jacket flapping open to his tear-drenched shirt. The brunet said no words, letting his department be his silent request to be left alone.

Joey cupped his hand over his eyes and dragged it down to his mouth. He tasted salt and the drip of his tears. Being strong was so hard. He wondered just how long it would take for all of them to move on from this. Could time was going to be their one true healer, if it could truly heal a wound that would forever bleed.

* * *

'_He doesn't look quite as welcoming as the others.' _Neo grimly confirmed to himself.

Perhaps it would've been a better idea to stay inside the Jeep until someone volunteered to take him back to the hospital. Anything was better than having to stick around someone who openly displayed his or her dislike for you. Just look at him, lithe as a warrior with legs as long as beanpoles. The way he held himself spoke volumes of his imposing authority.

Sweat was building in the center of his clenched fists. Neo wasn't so sure this was a good idea after all.

Yami squeezed his shoulder. "Be brave, Neo."

"Easier said than done," Neo mumbled to himself.

Heba gave him a great pat on his back. His face was close, and his voice praising in Neo's ear. "Don't let my brother scare you, my friend. He always wears that face, even at parties."

A slow smile formed over his lips and subtly brightened his face. "Thanks, I needed that." Neo surveyed his surroundings against beneath the sun's relentlessly flare. It was another chance Neo had to really see that many of them had totally stopped what they were doing to give him the same scrutinizing expression.

"Don't mind them, they'll grow used to you," said Heba. "They always act this way towards strangers."

"And they should."

Neo couldn't help it. He stared like a complete idiot. This Atem's voice vibrated in Neo's stomach like a struck bong beneath the ocean, shockwaves bouncing off the walls and collecting in the center. It was deeper than Yami's, way deeper, more gruff and commanding. If there was even the tiniest doubt in Neo's mind about Atem's power, there was no question about it now. He didn't only look the part of leader, he defined it.

"Anyone unfamiliar to these parts aren't welcomed with open arms," Atem continued crisply. "You won't be the exception."

Unfortunately, there wasn't a thing wrong with his English. He spoke it just as fluently as Heba, maybe better. Neo's nails dug small grooves into his fist. Frustration promised to give his head migraines if he caved in. He wet his bottom lip and looked off to the side.

"Now, that we've happily established you as the bastard of the family," Heba responded lowly, "let me introduce the rest of the family." Heba kept his eyes directed at Atem, the whole time he urged Neo—and Yami who hadn't lifted his fingers from Neo's shoulder—toward the rest of the family.

Neo cut his eyes away from Atem with enough sharpness to slice wet paper. If that's how the man wanted to play it, that's fine. As far as Neo was concerned respect should be received before it's given. He wouldn't waste his breath trying to offer his until the other party did so in return.

Heba bumped Neo's shoulder to get his attention. "You remember my mother."

Desta came forward with her arms spread and welcoming, "Karibu, Neo. (Welcome, Neo)" Neo took her outstretched arms and let himself be pulled into her warm bosom. She laid his head there and rocked back him like an infant. Two kisses were placed on his cheek and one on his brow. She cupped his face with a smile as lovely as violets. "Nina furaha wewe ni vizuri (I'm so glad you're well)."

Neo melted on the inside, chest so full with care for this woman. He didn't have to have anyone translate her tenderness for him. It was written all over her face.

"Asante, Bi Desta (Thank you, Ms. Desta)" he said.

Desta gasped pleasantly and giggled. With one more kiss to his cheeks, she allowed him to move down the line to the rest of the family.

The next person made Neo do a double take because of how balantly unique she looked from the rest. Not as bronze skinned or pale, but more in between in an almost light cream. She was thickly built, curving all around in hills and bounds of weight that suited her frame wonderfully. Her eyes rivaled a cornflower, but with a slanted gleam that said she wasn't the kind of person to mess around with. Her full lips were curled up on one side and she had a lazy hand perched on her hip when neo was placed before her.

She sucked her teeth, shaking her head. "Maskini mmoja, mdogo, nilifikiri ilikuwa ugonjwa kwamba alifanya naye hivyo pale, lakini hakuna, yeye tu inaonekana karibu kufa. (Poor little one, I'd thought it was the sickness that made him so pale, but he just looks near death."

"Shangazi, kuwa nzuri, (Auntie, be nice)," Heba sneered.

Neo looked between them, at Heba's pouty face and the woman's less then interested expression. The only side of her face turned as charmingly bright as the other half. She cast a look at her sister-in-law.

"Wewe walikuwa sahihi, dada. Yeye ni adorable (You were right, sister. He is adorable)." The women shared giggles.

That last word was easy to recognize. Neo grinned sheepishly as a blush painted his cheeks.

"This is my Auntie, Charlize Bello, the mother of my cousins, Anzu and Seth."

Neo bowed at the waist. "Pleased, to meet you."

Heba translated. Charlize gave her consented nod and smirked. "Na uso kwamba, yeye ni amefungwa kuwa na mengi ya wasichana hawa wanaojitokeza kwa mbegu zake. (With that face, he's bound to have these girls lining up for his seed)." Desta covered her fist over her mouth to stifled the burst of laughter that came after that comment. The woman down the way did the same, but the men all wore disgusted glares and annoyance.

"Mwanaharamu mwanamke, (Bastard woman)," one of the elderly men grounched earning some smirks and chuckles from the men.

Charlize shot a dark look down the line which the man ignored without a proble.

"What did she say?" Neo asked.

"A-ny-ways, moving on," Heba ushered to the next character of the family. That would the thing Heba hoped Yugi never learned. Yami met Heba's eyes with an equally disturbed grimaced.

The next person in line was the tallest of them all, with very distinct lines and high cheekbones on his angular face. He was wearing a black vest, dark grey jeans and a white sleeveless t-shirt. His eyes looked remarkably similar to Ms. Charlize. Neo wouldn't have to take ten guesses as to who this slim fellow was.

"This is Seth, my eldest cousin," Heba introduced. "He handles the financial bulk of a lot that goes around here, like stock purchases and trades."

Seth gazed peculiarly at Neo for the longest before he nodded and looked away. This one wasn't going to be as inviting either, Neo figured when he retracted the hand he'd held out to be shaken.

Next was a very pregnant woman and a grin worthy of reflective off jewels, it was so bright. Her hair was braided in countless plaits, wrapped a hundred times on top of her head like a crown. She was wearing a yellow tube dress that flowed like water over her ample bosom and hips and protruding belly. Her smile was crafty; yes, Neo could imagine her as a trickster. Her eyes were the same as Seth and Charlize, so that left her as the final cousin. There was a man standing next to her with an equally cocky arrogance about him too. He was wearing a crimson and gold trimmed robe, a sort of greyish loincloth and tan sandals.

"We've told you about Anzu and her husband Akefia. They're Bakura's parents."

"Ambaye si kusimamishwa kuzungumza kuhusu wewe lakini, (Who hasn't stopped talking about you yet)," Anzu said in a rush of cheery words that flew right over Neo's head. She held out her delicate hand. "Umefanya Enchanted kijana wangu. Mimi naona kwa nini, wewe ni kiasi cuter hadi karibu. Mimi nina Anzu, uganga kukutana na wewe! (You've enchanted my boy and I can see why. You're so much cuter up close. I'm Anzu, charmed to meet you)."

Neo smiled and took it, bowing. "Nice to meet you."

Akefia stuck out his bottom lip. "Cute ni yeye? (He's cute?)"

"Cute sana. (Very cute)."

Akefia unrolled his arm from around her waist to fold it across his chest. Anzu shrugged her shoulders and offer Neo a charming smile. Whatever she said must've not been agreeable with Akefia. Neo receieved a dull glare and an eyeroll from Akefia before he went down the line to the next person.

Neo knew them a upon sight. Desta and Heba and Yami had told him about the founders of Zambia Rancher, the two men who were strong and willful despite their age. Neo could see the strength in their eyes, the amount of heart it must've taken for them to create this place.

It was impossible not to admire their will. Two young boys who'd moved the world until it flourished and created this magnificent valley of life. Neo stationed himself between the first Bellos men and dipped down in a perfect half bow. These two, the original origin of Zambia Ranch; Aknadin and Aknancanon were the very people who deserved his respect.

"I'm very much honored to meet you both, Mr. Aknancanon and Aknadin. I've heard so much about you. Thank you for allowing me on your land."

When Neo cocked back up he was met with astoundishment and curiousity from the two men. They simutaneously nodded to Heba who relayed every word. After the final syllable was said, it was Aknancanon, the eldest surviving Bello to approach Neo and clapped his monstrous hand on top of the young lad's head.

"Kuwa na uhakika si kwa tamaa mke wangu, mtoto. (Be sure not to disappoint my wife, child)."

Neo nodded. Heba swelled with enough pride to rival a peacock.

Yami gave his shoulder a tender squeeze. "You're doing well, Neo."

"Thanks," Neo peered over his shoulder, gaze softening at his friend. "I wouldn't have been able to stomach doing this alone."

Yami patted his back. Heba blinked, thinking. A subtle suspicion arose in his head, but before he could ponder it, a nasty snort erupted his train of thought. Heba tried not to snarl back. No sense in both of the youngest Bellos acting like a couple of animals.

Heba plowed his fingers through his brown hair and resisted the urge to overlook his brother. And it was really tempting just to get Neo settled in without the drama that was assuredly going to happen. At least Yami was hear to help along with this. Heba wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain his proper host status when dealing with Atem's temper.

"I'll deal with him," Yami murmured.

Heba was too surprised to deny the request. "Pfft, have at it. Make sure you come back with your fingers and toes."

Yami retracted the flinch that almost revealed his anxiety. It'd been weeks since he and Atem truly shared more than a couple of sentences. Their home was vacant of any laughter, free of those special touches and glances they used to share. There was only room for the tension that lodged itself inside and grew thickest when they were in each other's presence.

He would see his finacee head on this time. For Neo's sake at least, Yami will try to be civil. He guided his little friend over and cleared his throat. This was a speech he'd been working on in english for several weeks. There was going to be a time when he'd have to introduce Neo to the Zambia's future leader anyway, so he practiced.

"Neo, this is Atem Bello, Zambia Ranch's future chief—"

"And his betrothed." Atem added with a nastiness that was intended to put a damper in this disturbing bond.

Yami's lips tightened. "Yes, my _supposed_ betrothed."

Atem frowned at Yami, and the frown and his eyes both held a sharp kind of disgruntled contempt. Neo couldn't blame him for looking put off. Yami spoke those words in a tone in the poison voice that said he would've rather kept it secret—though it made Neo queasy to learn that his friend was the fiancée of this man.

Atem approached where he stood in a hasty motion, devouring the space between him and them in three long strides. Neo swallowed. Yami braced himself, muscles tensing and fingers clutching the ball of Neo's shoulder.

Atem's arm wrapped firmly around Yami's waist, almost crushing the breath out of him and he leaned towards his ear to hiss, "Whatever has you bitter towards, I suggest you deal with it. I won't have you disrespecting me in front of my family!"

"So it's perfectly fine, when you make a fool out of me in front of everyone, is it?" Yami hissed back.

"Bite your tongue; I've done no such thing."

Yami stared at him with his mouth open for a moment, astounded. "You can't be serious. It's all you ever do!"

"Is that what you think?"

"I know it is."

Atem chuckled bitterly. "We aren't going to do this here," he shoved Neo away. "You're coming with me." He grabbed a slender arm and roughly pulled the younger male with him. The action caused the unsuspecting Yami to stagger and lose his balance.

"Have you lost your mind? Unhand me now!" Yami bellowed angrily. "Let me go, let me go, Atem!"

"Yami!" Neo latched onto Yami's flailing arm. "Leave him alone!" He snarled at Atem, countering the stronger man's weight with his own. "You're hurting him!"

Atem stopped and turned to glare at the unwanted stranger. "How dare you," he loosened his grip on Yami enough to whirl around and cuff Neo by his collar. "Despite whatever attachment you may have to this man, make no mistake that it is because he belongs to. Me! I staked claim to him and it is I who'll come to when the sun sets and it is I he shall see at first light!"

"I don't care about any of that!" Neo winched as his collar curled into his windpipe. "He's my friend. I'm not trying to take him away from you, but I won't stand here and let you hurt him either!"

Yami wedged himself between them. "Let him go, Atem! Do it now!"

Atem squeezed a moment longer before slinging the lightweight to the side. Neo coughed and rubbed at the raw whip along his neck. His eyes were squint tight, barring off the pain in his chest and the ache in his legs.

"Neo," Yami kneeled by his side, and cupped his shoulders. Neo forced air to his lungs, coughing hoarsely. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm OK—Yami!" By the time Neo worked his eyes open, Yami was recaptured and dragged away toward the house on the edge of the village.

Being incredibly stubborn, Yami dug his heels in the ground and pulled in the opposite direction. It got him nowhere. Atem being the more muscular and the taller of the two was able to counter the force and watch, with bitter amusement, as lover's childish attempts to escape.

"Act your age you disrespectful ingrate,_" _Atem snapped, as he hauled Yami onward. The uncooperative younger man continued his fruitless struggles. He was literally sliding on the sole of his sandals._ "Walk _Yami!"

"No, unhand me this minute, damn you!"Yami snapped back. He saw the hardening of Atem's jaw and inwardly celebrated at causing a stir in his lover. It didn't win Yami the opportunity he'd hoped for of Atem releasing him. "Stop manhandling me Atem—Heba, Seth, someone help me!"

Atem paused. He raised his arm higher, getting Yami to the tip of his toes, snatched Yami forward and advanced on. Yami lost his stance repeatedly, having no other options, but to follow or fall. His protests went unanswered from there. He twisted and pulled at his arm. Atem was going too fast—he'd stretched his stride wider on purpose. It was impossible for Yami to keep up. He wound up stumbling forward into Atem's back.

After catching his breath, Neo clumsily climbed to his feet and started after them.

Heba held him back. "No, let them go."

"Please, Heba, won't you do something? He'll hurt him!"

Heba shook his head. "My brother's many things, but never violent towards Yami. He'd cut his right hand off before he lashes out at him."

Neo mourned the idea and wasn't too convinced. He pleadingly looked to the other family members, noting how none of them made a move to go after Atem. Yami fought with him the whole way, digging his heels into the ground, pounding his fist against Atem's back and even kicking the back of his legs. Atem shouted a slew of words before he ducked down, grabbed Yami around his waist, and slung him over his shoulder. They disappeared inside the hut, Yami's shrieks as loud as banshee screams.

Neo made a tormented sound. "You promise he'll be OK, Heba?"

"Yes," Heba steered Neo in the other direction. "It's not our place to interfere with how a man or woman treats their significant other anyway. Come on, we need to get you cleaned up and settled in."

Neo was reluctant to move from his spot. The staggering footsteps were still implanted in the gritty dirt, some kicked up pits here and there created from Yami's thrashing. With a little urging from Desta as well, Neo made his way to the hut he'd share with Heba, his mind tossing back and forth, with what's happened today.


End file.
